Postage Stamps
by Priah
Summary: OnHold Draco and Hermione, betrothed in youth. After 13yrs of waiting, a wedding leaving much to be desired, and a mistaken request to babysit they find marriage not what they expected, and their life not nearly free from care. DracoHermione.
1. Little Pictures

A/N: Hi, ya'll! New fic! Aren't you excited?? Lol. This is, I guess, in honor of the completion of MPES... which, if I do say so myself, was a GREAT fic. Lol, okay, maybe not GREAT... but better than Flames :oD This chapter was formerly titled 'Little Pictures Have Big Ears' (when it made its first appearance in FLYT) which basically means children hear more than you give him credit for... but I shortened it. I shortened the title of the fic too... Postage Stamps? Little Pictures? Lol... iRONic... hm... This first chapter is basically a prologue. Enjoy.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
CHAPTER ONE: Little Pictures  
  
Hermione Granger stepped out of the yellow London taxicab just outside her vast home and sighed blissfully as her eyes grazed over it. She hadn't been back in almost a year... there was the Hogwarts term, then Christmas spent at school, and the first portion of summer with the Weasley's. She enjoyed visiting the burrow, but it was nothing like home.  
  
As the cab pulled away, Hermione decided she'd had enough reminiscing and picked up the small bag she had brought with her. It wasn't much, but shrinking spells worked wonders when wanting to travel light. Although it was summer, it was the summer after seventh year, which meant free use of her wand and potion making abilities. Life had never been so good.  
  
Hermione walked up to the tall, white, crosshatched wooden gate and fumbled in her purse for the key. She felt a wave of slight panic wash over her as she discovered that the little metal wonder was missing. Out in the open using a wand was looked down upon, but it seemed her only choice. That is, unless by some miracle, her parents had left the gate unlocked...  
  
Hermione closed her eyes and turned the handle, surprised when it spun easily under her hand. She let out a short sigh of relief, not bothering to wonder exactly why the gate was unlocked, and passed quickly through and down the damp path to the front door. It'd been raining all day, but she was lucky enough to manage a window of sprinkle with which to return home. With a wide smile, Hermione reached for the doorknob, only to see it turn before she could touch it. She looked up, startled, to see the tall, blonde, and looming figure of Lucius Malfoy.  
  
"Granger," he acknowledged her, and Hermione's breath caught in her throat. All at once, the shock subsided and a smile graced her lips.  
  
"Uncle Lucius!" she shrieked, dropping her bag on the sidewalk and throwing her arms around him. Lucius laughed, hugging and spinning her around before gently placing her back on the ground.  
  
"I'm not your damn uncle, child," he said, but a playful smirk stayed planted on his face.  
  
"Would you rather she call you Aunt Lucy, like her mother?" said another voice and Hermione looked behind her surprise house guest to a thin blonde woman who held a tight smile on her lips and her hands clasped at her protruding midsection.  
  
"Only for cover, and only in letters, Narcissa." Hermione squealed and ran to Narcissa, ignoring the eye roll given from Lucius.  
  
"Cissa!" she called, embracing the woman as she had her husband, then backed up a bit, eyes wide. "Look at you," Hermione said in awe, eyes on the new mother's stomach. Narcissa raised an eyebrow, glancing at Lucius.  
  
"You sound surprised," Narcissa said, still smiling, and Hermione looked up.  
  
"Well... yeah!" she exclaimed as if it were obvious. Narcissa looked a tad confused.  
  
"Draco didn't tell you?" Hermione crossed her arms at the thought of the Slytherin.  
  
"No, Draco didn't tell me! Is he here? I'm aiming to give him a good kick in the pants..." Both adults laughed.  
  
"No," Lucius said. "We didn't wake him up... and it's only eleven, so I'm betting on three hours before he has enough sense to remember that you're coming home today," he said, stepping up to Narcissa and placing a hand on her back. She smiled up at him. Hermione sighed.  
  
"He can wait. When are you due, Cissa?" she asked, bending to place her ear against the woman's protuberance.  
  
"About a month," she stated softly with a warm smile.  
  
"Wow... do you know what it is yet?" Hermione asked, looking back up. Narcissa shook her head.  
  
"But my money's on a boy," she said and Hermione laughed.  
  
"Wouldn't we all be surprised?"  
  
"As intriguing as this conversation may be, ladies... don't you even want to know why we're here, Hermione?" Lucius interrupted and she shrugged a shoulder.  
  
"I figured I'd find out at some point or another." He smirked.  
  
"Your parents decided to stay a few days more on vacation, love. We're your messenger pigeons," Narcissa said and Hermione smiled.  
  
"You didn't have to come all the way here to tell me that... and you shouldn't be doing much of anything, Cissa." Lucius pointed to Hermione, but looked at his wife, who rolled her eyes.  
  
"See?" he exclaimed, then turned to Hermione. "That's exactly what I said... be damned if anyone listen to me..." Narcissa sighed.  
  
"You live just down the street, Hermione... not the next town. And stop swearing, Lucius; the baby will hear you." Hermione giggled softly, but Lucius closed his mouth. "That's better."  
  
"Are you going home now? Can I come?" Hermione asked, looking pleadingly at the two people in front of her. Narcissa and her husband shared a look, then Lucius straightened, looking down his pointed nose at her.  
  
"Hermione Granger, I have never and will never allow you to breech the threshold of my doorstep," he said quite coldly and Hermione frowned, looking toward the ground.  
  
"I understand, sir," she said sadly, staring at her shoes. Lucius simply gazed calmly at her and Narcissa shook her head, hand running over the swell at her middle. It wasn't ten seconds before Hermione started to giggle. A smirk appeared on Lucius face as she looked up.  
  
"Sometimes I think your mother exaggerates your intellect, Hermione. Of course you can come... but I'm afraid I have a few errands to run for your parents, so it'll just be you girls." Narcissa frowned slightly.  
  
"I think I'll stay with you, Lucius. Hermione, you know the way by now, I'm sure." Hermione grinned.  
  
"Of course," she said and pecked them each on the cheek before heading for the door. She was out only a moment before she reentered, dropping her bag on the floor and coming back to Narcissa, placing a gentle kiss on her swelling for the baby. She waved before skipping through the door once again.  
  
~o-o-o-o-o~  
  
Hermione, upon reaching the grand doors of Malfoy Manor, slowly opened them and stepped through. She started toward the staircase, but another blonde stopped her.  
  
"Hermione?" she grinned and spun around.  
  
"Hi Lucifer," she said softly to the man almost five years older than she. He stepped forward and gave her a hug.  
  
"How's my little sis?" Hermione laughed and kissed his cheek.  
  
"Not quite yet, Lucy. Where's Draco, I need to speak with him about something..." Lucifer smirked that hereditary Malfoy smirk and Hermione silently found herself hoping it made it into the next generation.  
  
"I'll give you one guess..." he whispered into her ear and she giggled, spinning around and bolting toward the stairs. "And don't call me Lucy!" Lucifer called after her, although he was still smiling. Hermione ran up the stairs, then turned right, left, and right again, until she came to a very familiar black door with a gold 'D' pressed into the wood. She paused briefly to catch her breath, then quietly pushed the slab open, sneaking inside.  
  
Hermione stood by the entrance, smirking as she found what she was looking for. On a silent count of three, she ran to the king size four-poster and leaped onto it, scaring the life out of its occupant.  
  
"Wakey, wakey, Drakey," she called out as she bounced, and Draco Malfoy bolted upright, head finally permeating the covers. Once sure he was awake, Hermione plopped down, bouncing one last time before the mattress settled beneath her. She contented herself with watching a shirtless and messy haired Draco blink his eyes into focus. When he saw her, he pulled the covers back over his head.  
  
"Gah, Hermione! You can't just barge in on a person like that! What if I'm not descent?" Hermione laughed.  
  
"I can do whatever the hell I want to you, my dear, and if you slept naked for seven years in Slytherin, I fear for you." Again, Draco folded the covers down.  
  
"Good point." Hermione gave a nod. "But I'm still wearing less than I'd like you to see." She laughed.  
  
"Oh, please, Draco...I HAVE seen you in trunks before, haven't I? And I'll be seeing a bit more than your fish belly in a few months..." Ignoring her crude remark, Draco lifted the sheets and looked to his stomach.  
  
"I do not have a fish belly... summer's barely started," he pouted, and Hermione laughed, pulling the covers all the way off and exposing his scantily clad and cotton white body. She smirked at his slight... almost invisible blush. She knew it was there. She'd known him long enough to know that.  
  
"Don't lie to me Draco. How long have we known each other? Seventeen years? You are one large and permanent fish belly." He sighed, pushing himself up on his elbows.  
  
"I bet you are too," he said a bit bitterly, and Hermione smirked, climbing onto her knees and lifting her thin black t-shirt to just below her breasts, displaying a perfect tan from the top of her ribs to the hem of her low cut jean cut-offs. Draco swallowed slightly. "Or not." Hermione rolled her eyes and dropped her shirt back down, pushing his shoulder.  
  
"What is it with you?" Draco shook his head, sitting up and sliding back against the headboard.  
  
"What are you doing here, anyway, Hermione? I thought you weren't supposed to come back for a few more days," Draco said, raising an eyebrow, but Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly at him.  
  
"Don't change the subject, Draco. You knew perfectly well when I was coming back. I sent you three letters," she said.  
  
"I didn't get them," he insisted and Hermione perked an eyebrow.  
  
"Oh really?" she asked, keeping her eyes on his face, and Draco's gaze flicked quickly to the pillow beside him before he agreed.  
  
"Really. Didn't use the Weasley bird, did you? It's not surprising, then..." Hermione waited only a moment before diving for the pillow. Despite Draco's attempts to stop her, she found the packet of letters, neatly tied with the red ribbon she recognized from her Christmas present to him. "Hey, give me those!" he demanded, holding her to him with one arm as he easily reached the other out and extracted the letter packet from her thin fingers. Hermione smirked, leaning against him slightly, and Draco pulled back, placing the letters under the other pillow, which he was much more able to protect. Hermione frowned a bit and sat up again.  
  
"Come on, Draco... talk to me," she pleaded, moving close, and Draco tensed a bit. She tried to sigh, but it caught in the middle. He'd never been like this before. They'd grown up together, they'd mud wrestled, and camped outside, and learned to fly at the same time... they'd always been close. She'd give anything to know what was different. "Fine, you don't want me near you... I won't be near you," she said, sounding a tad hurt, and started to get off the bed. Draco made quick to catch her arm.  
  
"Don't go off all mad at me," he pleaded and Hermione stopped, but didn't turn back to him. "Look, I just... well..." She slowly turned her head, waiting for a response. "This is getting too real for me." The scowl on Hermione's face dropped and her eyes softened. Draco didn't let go of her arm. "It was easy when we were younger... it was like a game, but, now... I love you, Hermione...you're my best friend... but we're getting MARRIED in five months. There's no changing it, it's going to happen... I just don't know if I'm ready." Hermione sighed.  
  
"Well if that's all," she said, swinging her legs back up onto the bed and turning around. Draco looked surprised. "What, you think I haven't been thinking the same thing? But we agreed to this a long time ago..."  
  
"Ha," he interrupted with a scowl. "How fair is it to ask two five-year-old best friends if they wanted to get married when they turned eighteen?" Hermione sighed.  
  
"It's rather ingenious if you think about it. They wanted to betroth us, but we were two old, so they asked permission, knowing we'd say yes. Well, I said yes. I doubt you were paying attention." Draco frowned, looking down at the thin white sheets. Hermione sighed. "Draco, it's not going to be that much different. We've been practically married for our entire lives, with the exception of school. You're like my shadow... the only difference is we'll actually live together, and you won't have to climb the trellis every night just to see me before bed." He smiled, turning to her.  
  
"I guess you're right..."  
  
"Of course I'm right."  
  
"It's just... we're not kids anymore... it's going to be harder this way, you can't deny that." She sighed and nodded, but it was only a moment before Hermione snapped her head up, eyes narrowed.  
  
"Speaking of kids..." Draco's face lost expression. He knew where this was going. "Why the HELL didn't you feel the need to inform me of my future little brother or sister-in-law, hm?" Draco sighed.  
  
"Would you have gone to Ron's if I had?"  
  
"Of course not, I'd have come... straight..." she trailed off and Draco nodded.  
  
"Exactly." Hermione narrowed her eyes.  
  
"So you did this to get rid of me? Well I love you too, Draco... bloody hell," she said, moving out of his grasp, and Draco smirked.  
  
"Of course not; don't be dense. I did it so you could have a few more worry- free weeks with your friends before they find out about everything," he said and Hermione's scowl subsided.  
  
"Oh..." she said softly, then looked up at him. "Thanks, then..." Draco lifted a gentle finger and lightly brushed her chin.  
  
"You're welcome."  
  
~o-o-o-o-o~  
  
Hermione sighed, falling back on the plush carpet of Draco's vast room. He sat only about two feet away, now prim and dressed, minus hair gel, but plus a pair of thin wire-framed glasses. She turned her head to the side, watching silently as he read through 'The Muggle World for the Pureblooded Idiot'.  
  
"Why do you bother to read that trash, Draco? It's totally pointless... I could tell you more about the muggle world and I AM a pureblooded idiot." Draco looked up, and a smirk crossed his face.  
  
"No you're not, Hermione. You're a mudblooded genius," he said gently, as if it really was a compliment, but Hermione smiled rather than get upset.  
  
"You've been calling me that for so long, it's almost like a term of endearment now," she said, and Draco shrugged.  
  
"Who says it isn't?" Hermione smiled and sighed.  
  
"Too bad I'm not one..." she said, turning back to look at the ceiling and pulling her knees from the floor. Draco smirked.  
  
"Nobody needs to know that." Hermione smiled, but said nothing more for a few moments.  
  
"Isn't it nice to finally be free of that god forsaken school?" she said quietly, almost to herself, and Draco looked up again, not at all annoyed that she kept interrupting him. As a matter of fact, this book was quite boring.  
  
"Indeed it is. No more Snape... no more... Neville Longbottom... no curfew, no shared dorms, no 'no magic over the summer' rule..." he paused a moment, then set his book down, folded his glasses on top, and crawled over to her. Hermione closed her eyes, smiling. "But you know what the best part is?"  
  
"Hm?" she asked, turning her face slightly, and Draco grinned, leaning down to whisper in her ear.  
  
"We don't have to hide anymore," he said, then pulled back up, and Hermione opened her eyes, smiling at him.  
  
"If you think about it, it was pointless that we ever did in the first place." Draco frowned slightly.  
  
"It was to protect you from Voldemort, Hermione, you know that," he reminded her and she nodded.  
  
"Yes... but I don't see how being friends with Harry is any safer than being friends with you..." Draco sighed.  
  
"I'll admit you didn't choose the safest friends... but you were JUST his friend. If the Dark Lord found out that I was betrothed to the first female Boyce in Merlin knows how many centuries... he'd have you an inch from death before you could say Quidditch. Your family is by far the most powerful light side asset we've got... a Malfoy and a Boyce would be like... Hitler and Princess Diana." Hermione punched him, mouth open wide.  
  
"How DARE you compare yourself and your family to that of Adolf Hitler, Draco?" she asked in mild outrage and he smirked.  
  
"It's that damn book; it's got me feeling evil." Hermione sighed.  
  
"I told you not to read it." Draco laughed softly, then paused a moment, studying her. She smiled warmly at him, a confused twinkle in her eye. Hermione had just opened her mouth to ask what was wrong when she was silenced by two something's she hadn't felt on hers since that day eleven years ago in Draco's tree house after they'd watched 'Love Story' with Narcissa and Hermione's mother, Madeline Boyce.  
  
oOoOoOo  
  
"H'mione..." Asked a nervous, seven year old Draco Malfoy as he set up an army of plastic soldiers... the magic kind, with wands that shot sparks. A brown haired girl with her hair in tiny braids, pulled back in a ponytail, looked up from her book with a grin.  
  
"What?" she asked softly, and Draco turned to her.  
  
"Are you going to fall asleep forever... like the girl in that movie...?" he asked in a desperately quiet voice and Hermione looked surprised. She marked her book and set it beside her on the tightly nailed wooden floor of the quaint little clubhouse designed just for them. She criss-crossed her legs and sat up a little straighter, pressing a hand to her stomach.  
  
"I don't know..." This had evidently not been the answer Draco was looking for, as he immediately left his troops to occupy the side of his friend, as if afraid she'd die at any minute. She looked up at him as he moved to sit beside her. "How do I tell?" Draco, wanting to be the man... her shoulder to cry on... sat up straight and puffed out his chest as he made his statement.  
  
"If you were... you would feel sleepy... do you feel sleepy?" Hermione turned her head back down, thinking hard.  
  
"No... no, I don't think so..." she said, then paused a moment, before shifting to stand up. As she did, she gasped, placing her hands near the small of her back.  
  
"What?" Draco asked frantically, scrambling to stand beside her. Hermione turned to him.  
  
"Draco... my bum's asleep," she said, sounding fairly scared, and Draco's eyes widened. He nodded.  
  
"That's a sure sign." Hermione placed her hands quickly over her mouth, stifling her shriek.  
  
"What do we do?" she asked and, again, Draco tried to be proud and manly, as he always did when she needed his help.  
  
"Well... Mum read this story to me once... there was this girl, who slept for a hundred years, and the only way she could wake up, was if her one true love kissed her." Hermione sighed and stamped her foot.  
  
"Well where am I going to find one of those?" Draco was silent for a moment.  
  
"Daddy says you're my one true love... maybe I'm yours too," he suggested and Hermione nodded.  
  
"That makes sense... aw, but I don't wanna have ta wait a hundred years! That's a really long time, even for a witch..." she said, pouting and Draco came once again to her rescue.  
  
"Well... it took the prince guy that long to find her... maybe, since I'm already here, if I kiss you now, you won't even have to go to sleep... all the way," he suggested, and Hermione bit her lip. "Come on, H'mione... I don't want you to have ta sleep forever... that would be really boring. It's worth a shot." She sighed and nodded.  
  
"It's worth a shot." Hermione closed her eyes and puckered her lips, waiting for Draco to give their first kiss. After a few seconds of waiting, and no lip lock, she sighed and opened her eyes. Draco was looking quite terrified. "Oh, come on, Draco! It was your idea in the first place!" He swallowed and she closed her eyes again. "I'm feeling drowsy..." All at once, Draco connected his lips with hers, in a simple chaste kiss that ended within in three seconds. Hermione grinned. "Thanks, Drakey." Draco made a face.  
  
"Ew... I'm never doing that again... I don't care how much you don't want to take a nap."  
  
oOoOoOo  
  
Hermione held her breath, applying light pressure to the lips atop hers. She couldn't think of anything except how comfortable this felt. Draco had been her best friend their entire lives... she'd imagined their first... or rather, second kiss would occur on their wedding day, and be extremely awkward... but this simply felt right. Draco slowly pulled back, letting a sweet breath onto Hermione's moist lips. She was silent for a moment before she opened her eyes. Draco was looking quite nervous and scared, making unending eye contact as he waited for her response. Hermione smirked.  
  
"But Draco... I'm not even sleepy," she said softly and he laughed. "What was that for?" Draco shrugged slightly, his fear subsiding.  
  
"Practice," he stated and leaned down for another round. Hermione, however, smirked once more and turned her head. Draco pulled back again, looking slightly confused.  
  
"That's not fair; you can't just kiss me whenever you feel like it," she said and he perked an eyebrow.  
  
"I can too; you're my fiancée, I can kiss you if I want to," he stated, lifting his nose in the air and Hermione laughed.  
  
"Get over yourself." Draco looked down her, but his nose remained high above. "Alright, let's make a deal. You don't get to kiss me again until I see you naked," Hermione proclaimed and Draco's face contorted in disgust.  
  
"Why would you want to?"  
  
"I don't, particularly, but I gotta get something out of this, don't I?" she said. "Don't look so cheated; I still get to kiss you... and besides, we've got other things to practice..." Draco shook his head.  
  
"You sappy women. And for the record, you've never kissed me." Hermione shrugged.  
  
"First time for everything. Now, what about sappy?" Draco sighed.  
  
"Alright, alright. Hermione Renee Boyce, do you take Draco Demetrius Malfoy as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?" Hermione pretended to think for a moment.  
  
"You know, it's a sure sign of insanity to talk in third person." Draco rolled his eyes.  
  
"Just answer the question H'mione, do you or don't you?"  
  
"Do I have a choice?" Draco glared slightly. "Okay, okay, I do. Do you, Draco Demetrius Malfoy, take Hermione Renee Boyce to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?"  
  
"I do," Draco said quickly, then leaned down to seal the deal, but Hermione stuck to her word, placing a finger between his lips and hers.  
  
"Must you be so urgent, Draco? You waited eleven years between the first and second kiss, I think you can wait a little longer than eleven seconds between the second and third." Draco sighed and rolled away, lying on his back beside her. Hermione turned to him slightly after a brief period of silence. "Draco, I need you to promise me something." He turned to her once more.  
  
"What is it with you and promises all of a sudden?" Hermione smiled.  
  
"Please?"  
  
"What, then?"  
  
"After we get married, we'll still be friends, right?" Draco smiled, but shook his head. Hermione frowned deeply, not quite understanding. That hadn't been the answer she was looking for.  
  
"We'll be friends with benefits," he said, raising his eyebrows, and Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"What's gotten you so sex driven all of a sudden?" Draco shrugged.  
  
"Just the thought that I'm finally going to get to score, and it's going to be with the one person I love more than anything," he said, grinning, and Hermione smiled back.  
  
"So poetic," she said softly and Draco smirked quite smugly, causing her to giggle.  
  
~o-o-o-o-o~  
  
"Draco, how do you think I'd look with corn-rows?" Hermione asked as she sat Indian style in front of the full-length mirror in the tree house, picking through her hair.  
  
"Beautiful," Draco said absently, now reading a book a little more interesting than his previous.  
  
"What if I dyed it black?"  
  
"Beautiful." Hermione turned around, suspecting he wasn't paying attention.  
  
"What if I got a tattoo on my forehead? How would I look then?"  
  
"Beautiful."  
  
"And if peeled off all my skin and used it to make an overcoat?"  
  
"Beautiful." Hermione sighed.  
  
"What if I played paintball in a white string bikini?" Draco looked up at this suggestion, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Extremely beautiful." Hermione smirked.  
  
"So you were paying attention?" Draco gave a nod.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"So you think I should go for the skin thing?" she asked, turning back to the mirror and leaning close, examining her skin.  
  
"Most definitely," he agreed, but then seemed to change his mind. "Actually, that's already been done once or twice. I'd vote on something more original... like paintball." Hermione rolled her eyes and spun around, crawling closer and sitting beside him before digging her hand into the bowl of Bertie Bott's with lay on the floor. She took a bite out of one, then made a face and pulled it back out of her mouth, shuddering. Draco smirked. "What was it?"  
  
"I don't know..." Hermione said, then held it toward him, pinched between her thumb and forefinger. "Taste it." Without hesitation, Draco opened his mouth, accepting the morsel and chewing thoughtfully. He didn't even cringe.  
  
"Hm... I think it's liver." Hermione shook herself again. "I do agree, quite detestable..." He paused a moment. "Look for another one," Draco said, fingering through the bowl, and Hermione shook her head, leaning against him slightly. Draco looked a bit surprised, but stopped his search, lifting his arm over her head and enclosing it around her shoulders. She sighed blissfully.  
  
"Draco, what..." Hermione started, but a digital ring interrupted her. She looked up at Draco, and he lifted an eyebrow, reluctantly letting her go and scurrying toward the phone in the corner.  
  
"First time that's ever happened," he mused to himself and Hermione shook her shoulders.  
  
"I didn't even know you had a phone up here..."  
  
"Hello?" Draco spoke into the receiver, a little surprise showing in his voice.  
  
"Draco, oh good... Lucifer said you were in the tree-house."  
  
"Dad? What happened?" Hermione straightened a bit at this question, looking a tad worried.  
  
"Everything's fine, son... but I've taken your mother to the blasted muggle hospital... she insists she feels odd... but she's done this more times than I have, so I'm taking her word for it," Lucius said, smiling with his voice.  
  
"But she's alright?" Draco asked, holding a finger to Hermione, who looked a tad impatient.  
  
"Oh, yes, she's fine..." Draco gave a nod to Hermione, and she sighed a bit, relieved. It was obvious they were talking about Narcissa.  
  
"Well, where are you? We'll be..."  
  
"No, don't bother, son... I'll call again if something happens, but for now, don't worry yourself. I just wanted to let you know where we were, in case you came looking. I've got to go now, Draco... I trust you'll be a gentleman and walk Hermione home?" Draco raised an eyebrow, although Lucius didn't see.  
  
"How did you know she was here?" Lucius laughed heartily.  
  
"As if she'd have gone home already." Draco smirked.  
  
"Of course I will, sir. Will you be back tonight?" Lucius sighed slightly.  
  
"Probably not, but I'll call you in the morning. Lucifer's there if you need anything." Draco rolled his eyes.  
  
"Yes, Father. Goodbye, Father." Lucius laughed as Draco hung up the phone. He turned to a worried and impatient Hermione. "Mum's in the hospital," he told her, not easing her mind in the slightest. "But she's alright, just for observation, I guess... Father said not to come; wouldn't even tell me which hospital," Draco continued, sitting back down beside her. "Only that it was a muggle one."  
  
"A muggle one?" Draco nodded.  
  
"He promised her she could have this baby at one, considering both Lucifer and I were born at St. Mungo's. Hermione sighed.  
  
"At least she's alright." Draco nodded his agreement and smirked as he regained the positioning he'd had before the call. Hermione grinned and snuggled into him.  
  
~o-o-o-o-o~  
  
"Draco," Hermione asked softly, her eyes closed as she happily rested her cheek against his chest. He jumped slightly, surprised at her speech. They'd slowly progressed to a reclined position on the floor together; Draco lay on his back with Hermione pressed to his side, arm partially draped over his chest. They'd been silent for well onto an hour, and her voice was startling.  
  
~o-o-o-o-o~  
  
~*~ Breathe in for luck, breathe in so deep  
  
~*~This air is blessed, you share with me  
  
~*~This night is wild, so calm and dull  
  
~*~These hearts they race from self-control  
  
~*~Your legs are smooth as they graze mine  
  
~*~We're doing fine, we're doing nothing at all.  
  
~o-o-o-o-o~  
  
"Hm?" he replied when she didn't continue, and Hermione shifted slightly, tilting her head up the tiniest bit.  
  
"What scares you most about married life?" she asked just as gently and Draco was a tiny bit taken aback. He wasn't expecting that type of question... more like 'could you move? My leg's asleep.'  
  
"I... I don't really know," he said and Hermione frowned, keeping her eyes closed.  
  
"I'll tell you mine... come on, be open." Draco sighed.  
  
"I guess... I guess I'm just scared of it in general. Because I'm the man, a lot falls on my shoulders... it's my job to take care of you, and support you, and make sure everything is always alright and the way it should be... I just don't want to mess up something that important." Hermione smiled warmly.  
  
"I'm not that feeble, Draco... I'll be there to help you, you know." Draco smiled and squeezed her close.  
  
"I know." There was another period of silence before he spoke again. "So? What are you most afraid of?"  
  
"Babies." Draco chuckled softly.  
  
"Babies?" Hermione nodded.  
  
"Well, not babies," she said. "The whole prospect of having one... first you get fat, then there's pain... followed by sleep deprivation, depression, migraines, poverty, and severe paranoia. It just doesn't sound like vacation to me." Draco ran his hand over her shoulder.  
  
"It won't be that bad," he promised and Hermione laughed.  
  
"And exactly how would you know?" Draco shrugged, smiling.  
  
"If it was, I doubt Mum would keep shelling them out," he pointed out and Hermione laughed, hugging his side. "If it'll make it easier, we could practice." Hermione lifted her head, raising an eyebrow at him.  
  
"Do elaborate before I fabricate some not-so-pleasant mental images." Draco laughed.  
  
"Well, Mum IS going to have a baby... it's perfect really. We'll baby-sit." Hermione thought about this a moment, then nodded slowly.  
  
"You know... that's a pretty good idea... but there's no way to simulate pregnancy and delivery." Draco shrugged.  
  
"That you'll have to wing... but for now, we can pretend. As of this moment, you are officially as pregnant as my mother." Hermione looked down.  
  
"I sure carry it well, don't I?" she said, smirking, and Draco laughed.  
  
"Indeed you do." Hermione sighed, lying her head back down and closing her eyes. Again the little tree house was filled with silence.  
  
~o-o-o-o-o~  
  
~*~ The words are hushed lets not get busted,  
  
~*~Just lay entwined here undiscovered. ~*~Stay quiet, stay near, stay close, they can't hear... ~*~My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me ~*~So won't you kill me, so I die happy ~*~My heart is yours to fill or burst ~*~To break or bury, or wear as jewelry ~*~Whichever you prefer ~o-o-o-o-o~  
  
After what could have been hours of lounging and sparse conversation, Draco looked up at the wall-mounted clock. He sighed.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
"Hm?" she answered drowsily, making her comfort obvious. Draco smiled slightly.  
  
"It's pretty late, you're father'll skin me if we don't get you home soon," he said and Hermione frowned, shaking her head.  
  
"Daddy's not home... they're still on vacation," she reminded him, but didn't farther move or speak. Draco didn't either for a moment, savoring the last few minutes with her in his arms. It really had been a long time since he'd seen her...  
  
~o-o-o-o-o~  
  
~*~Hands down this is the best day I can ever remember  
  
~*~I'll always remember the sound of the stereo  
  
~*~The dim of the soft lights, the scent of your hair  
  
~*~That you twirled in your fingers  
  
~*~And the time on the clock when we realized it was so late  
  
~o-o-o-o-o~  
  
Draco only allowed himself a minute or so before he forced her to move.  
  
"Come on, H'mione," he whispered to her and started to shift. Hermione reluctantly sat up and fluttered open her eyes. She turned wearily to Draco, and he smiled, getting to his feet and offering his hands. Hermione yawned into her palm, then took them, standing herself. She smiled at him for a moment and Draco was preparing to lean in, but she sighed and broke away, stretching a bit before moving toward the latter. She waited by the door, knowing Draco liked to go down first. Hermione smiled to herself as she recalled this; when they were very young, it was a domination thing... which then grew into a 'cop a peek' under her skirt... but now had stopped at a concern for her safety. Draco did as he always had, starting down the rungs and waiting halfway down for her to start. Once she was down the first one or two, he quickly climbed to the ground, but waited there for her, gently taking Hermione's hips in his hands as she came close enough and guiding her the rest of the way down.  
  
Hermione smiled as her feet were placed again on the ground and turned around to face him, looking ever so beautiful in the moonlight. Draco placed a hand on the small of her back and began on a course for the street. Hermione deeply inhaled and sighed softly, smiling at him.  
  
"I love the way it smells after the rain," she said, grinning at the damp cement below their feet. Draco nodded.  
  
"I know," he said softly and Hermione crossed her arms, turning to look back up at him, keeping her expression. Thinking she might be cold, Draco moved his arm from her back to her shoulders, pulling her close to him. Hermione complied less than reluctantly, turning her face into his shoulder. They reached her gate in no time and she swiftly reached a hand to open it, only to be met with a steadfast knob. Her features contorted in what looked like tired confusion.  
  
"Lucius must have locked it when they left," she said, sighing, and Draco nodded.  
  
"Do you have a key?" Hermione shook her head, returning her arms to their previous state.  
  
"Nor a wand; it's inside." Draco nodded in understanding, then shrugged, removing his arm. Hermione suddenly felt a chill.  
  
"Oh, well... bye then," he stated simply, then turned and started back toward his home. Hermione's jaw dropped.  
  
"Draco! You can't just leave me here!" she called after him, but Draco didn't seem to hear her. "Draco! Please!" But he didn't turn back. Hermione sighed in frustration, and slammed her back into the post aside the entrance. "How can he be so wonderful one minute, and such a bastard the next?" she mumbled quietly to herself, but someone answered.  
  
"'Tis a gift," said a voice, seconds before the gate opened and a blonde head emerged. Hermione felt a wave of relief, but smacked him anyway, scowling.  
  
"That wasn't at all humorous, Draco," she said and he shrugged.  
  
"I kind of thought it was." Her expression didn't change. "Oh, come on, Hermione, do you really think I'd just leave you like that? Honestly..." Hermione took a moment to contemplate, but then sighed and shook her head.  
  
"How did you get in, anyway?" Draco lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"How do I usually get in to see you when the gate's locked?" he asked in a way suggesting she should know the answer, and Hermione turned her eyes to the heavens.  
  
"Trellis," she said and he nodded.  
  
"Indeed."  
  
~o-o-o-o-o~  
  
~*~And this walk that we shared together  
  
~*~The streets were wet and the gate was locked  
  
~*~So I jumped it and let you in  
  
~o-o-o-o-o~  
  
Hermione sighed softly and stood straight, starting down the damp path to her home. Draco followed closely, like a gentleman, walking her to her door. Luckily, there was a key under the mat, which Hermione knelt and retrieved, immediately fitting it into the lock.  
  
"Hey," Draco said and Hermione turned back to him. "Don't I even get a goodbye?" He sounded a little disappointed. She let her hands melt from the doorknob, turning to him.  
  
"You're not coming in?" she asked and Draco smiled slightly, shaking his head. "Oh, come on, Draco, it wouldn't be our first sleepover." He kept his smile and brought a hand to her chin, brushing it lightly with his fingertips.  
  
"It's not that I don't want to, Hermione, but I want to be there if Father calls with news," he explained, and her eyes widened a bit, as if she'd forgotten all about Narcissa.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry Draco... of course, I understand... call me too, though, alright?" He smiled and nodded.  
  
"Of course." Draco stood with his hands at his sides, smiling, and obviously waiting for Hermione to make a move... whether it be going inside or... something else. She waited a moment, then stepped forward, placing her hands just above the sides of his belt. Draco's smile faltered a bit; he didn't know what she was planning... but Hermione did. She pushed up and connected their lips for a third time.  
  
~o-o-o-o-o~  
  
~*~And you stood at your door with your hands on my waist  
  
~*~And you kissed me like you meant it  
  
~*~And I knew, that you meant it... that you meant it  
  
~o-o-o-o-o~  
  
They broke apart slowly and Draco was last to open his eyes.  
  
"Damn..." he whispered, causing Hermione to giggle. She pushed up again, but this time her lips came close to his ear, and she pulled his hand to her stomach.  
  
"Don't swear... the baby will hear you."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Well, nothing much special, hm? Lol. Just a background. Things that will be tackled in the future: Their marriage... their parents... and of course, babies! Normally I'd ask for votes as to the gender and name of Narcissa's baby... but I'm thinking I got it under control. Especially considering I'm writing the next chapter before and posting these two together :oD 


	2. Goodnights and Firelight

Disclaimer: It may be a new fic, but the characters are seasoned... thanks to salt, pepper, and JKR. ;o)  
  
Previously on PS:  
  
Draco stood with his hands at his sides, smiling, and obviously waiting for Hermione to make a move... whether it be going inside or... something else. She waited a moment, then stepped forward, placing her hands just above the sides of his belt. Draco's smile faltered a bit; he didn't know what she was planning... but Hermione did. She pushed up and connected their lips for a third time. They broke apart slowly and Draco was last to open his eyes.  
  
"Damn..." he whispered, causing Hermione to giggle. She pushed up again, but this time her lips came close to his ear, and she pulled his hand to her stomach.  
  
"Don't swear... the baby will hear you."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
CHAPTER TWO: Goodnights and Firelight accustom  
  
Hermione was awoken by a loud pounding from somewhere inside her mind. She groaned and rolled over in her full sized four-poster, pulling an ebony pillow over her head. The pounding didn't stop, however. In fact, it grew louder, bringing her back to consciousness more quickly than she would have hoped for. As she became more aware of the world around her, Hermione realized that the racket was coming from somewhere in the lower region of her home, as opposed to her own mind. Inhaling sharply, she pulled the pillow away and reached a hand toward her bedside table. She turned the digital alarm toward her and let out another moan as she blinked the numbers into focus. Whoever was waking her up at one in the morning sure as hell better have a good reason.  
  
As Hermione walked down the stairs, she silently repeated a reminder to herself to make coffee at the soonest possible convenience. Too many long days... her first night away from regretted obligations and someone had the nerve to wake her up. With a sigh, Hermione gave up on being angry. It simply took too much energy.  
  
"Come on, Hermione! Open up!" called an extremely familiar voice from behind the door to the front, and Hermione rolled her eyes as she stepped up to the door. She pulled it open without another thought, wearing an impassive look on her face.  
  
"Draco, what the hell are you..." she started, planning on telling him off for waking her, but the words died in her throat as she saw the little bundle of squirming blankets in his arms, which was making varied moans of discomfort. "Draco!" she called in outrage, her anger much more serious than it had been, but diluted with worry. Before Draco even had a chance to explain his presence, Hermione wretched the bundle from his arms and turned inside. "Close the door," she commanded, heading straight for the living room without even glancing back. Draco did as she asked, and followed quickly, his brows knotted in worry.  
  
Hermione brought her load to the couch and set it gently on the center cushion before slowly unwrapping the blankets from its inner treasure. In moments, the watery blue eyes of the newest little Malfoy looked up at her. Hermione frowned at the baby before picking it up. Draco, all along, simply watched as she held his sister to her bosom and rushed across the room, lighting a fire and sending warming spells at the furniture and overlying blankets. Once the four and a half month old little girl had stopped shaking and had warm air in her lungs, she started to whimper, which quickly turned into cries.  
  
"What happened?" Hermione asked over the little girl's wails, and Draco looked a bit startled. Hermione simply stared as she tried to comfort the tiny thing.  
  
"I... I don't know... she was fine one minute, and then... I can't get her to stop," he replied, sounding defeated, and Hermione kept her eyes locked for a few more moments, as if to be sure he was finished. Then, she shook her head and continued to comfort the moaning baby. She didn't seem to be letting up... but Hermione knew from experience that Hazel could cry a substantial amount louder than that.  
  
"Did you feed her?" she asked, rubbing the little girl's back through the thin pajamas she wore. Draco nodded solemnly.  
  
"I tried... she wouldn't take it."  
  
"Rock her?" Another nod.  
  
"Yes. I even sung; I was desperate." His fiancée sighed.  
  
"Did you change her?" This time, Draco remained silent. Hermione shifted Hazel higher on her hip and rolled her eyes, groaning. "Dray-co! We've talked about this a thousand times!" He looked toward the floor.  
  
"I know... but it just feels so wrong." Hermione turned away, shaking her head, and started for the kitchen. As she predicted, Draco followed her and watched as she spread a blanket over the countertop and gently placed the tiny girl upon it. Then, she looked up.  
  
"Can you watch her for just five seconds?" she asked exasperatedly, and Draco nodded, stepping toward the counter. It was no use arguing; Hermione had every right to be angry. Their parents had gone off on a semi-shopping spree. They were house hunting... for their soon-to-be-wed offspring. Ever since the day Hazel was born, as planned, they'd taken every possible opportunity to baby-sit. Unfortunately, Narcissa and Madeline, Hermione's mother, had decided to play a sick game with them, forcing them to watch the baby almost everyday. This took a much bigger toll on Hermione than it did Draco. He had absolutely no idea what to do half the time, and usually watched as Hermione lived out her worst nightmare. He found himself confused as to why they'd agreed to this in the first place; Hermione had specifically said she was afraid of taking care of a baby... and his suggested solution? Toss one right in her lap.  
  
When the older adults had told of their plans for that weekend, Draco had come up with, if he did say so himself, a brilliant plan to ease his bride- to-be of the burden. He had volunteered to take Hazel under his wing for the entire two days, and promised not to bother Hermione about anything, no matter what. At the time, she thought him sweet, and rewarded with a soft kiss to the cheek... but now, he could understand her anger. It was his first night and he was already begging on bended knees for her help.  
  
Hermione left the kitchen and returned moments later with her box of changing essentials. Draco, who had been gently holding a hand to his sister's abdomen to keep her on the flat surface, took it away and stepped to the side. Hermione looked up and lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"Where do you think you're going?" Draco looked confused.  
  
"Aren't you going to..." but Hermione shook her head, shoving the little basket into his arms.  
  
"Nope. I already know how to change a diaper. I think it's time you learned." Draco, at this, glared slightly.  
  
"I know how," he corrected and Hermione mocked surprise.  
  
"Really? Well, let's see it then," she insisted, taking a seat at the bar and placing her finger into Hazel's tiny fist. The baby didn't squeeze but Hermione didn't mind; she'd always loved the little fingers.  
  
"Hermione..." Draco started, looking worriedly between the baby and his girlfriend. She looked up and batted her eyelashes.  
  
"Yes?" He gave her a pleading look and she sighed. "Draco, honestly. I don't see what the problem is here." Draco shot her a glance; he knew she knew what his problem was. Hermione shook her head. "What if we have children, Draco? What if I... die birthing our first daughter? Are you going to make her wear one diaper until she's old enough not to need it? I daresay that'd be some severe diaper rash," she joked, but Draco wasn't laughing. Of course, she didn't expect him too... but his reaction was far more severe than she'd assumed it would be. He'd looked up at the start of her second sentence and had looked horrified ever since. In fact, he hadn't even heard the rest of her question.  
  
"Don't you ever say anything like that ever again," he commanded, but gently, simply sounding scared. Hermione dropped her smirk and looked confused. "That is NOT going to happen," he insisted and Hermione smiled a tiny bit. He was concerned over her death proposal. Ah well, might as well humor him while Hazel was occupied with wooden spoon.  
  
"It could," she said. "Anything is possible." Draco looked almost as if she'd stabbed him.  
  
"No," he said. "It won't." Hermione shrugged a shoulder.  
  
"You never..."  
  
"No," Draco repeated, this time a bit forcefully. Hermione looked up at his sudden increase in volume and for the first time, found herself slightly scared of Draco Malfoy. It was strange however... considering the reason he was angry in the first place. She found herself touched and frightened simultaneously. It was surprisingly a rather unpleasant sensation.  
  
"Okay," she agreed, turning back to face Hazel, who was now on the verge of crying; also startled by Draco's voice. "It won't." Seeing her timid composure, Draco stepped forward, placing the basket on another chair and replacing the hand on Hazel's stomach as he used his other arm to embrace Hermione. She didn't fight it; in fact, she seemed to have wanted the contact as much as he did, reaching her arms around him and holding her boyfriend close.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered to her, his lips close enough for her to hear even through Hazel's cries. "I didn't mean to scare you." Hermione let out a hiccoughing laugh and pulled away.  
  
"You didn't scare me," she insisted, sliding off her chair and stepping around him to retrieve the basket. She prepared herself to change the diaper, but, for the first time, Draco stopped her.  
  
"Let me do it," he asked more than stated and Hermione had no choice but to agree. She let her hands melt from the talcum powder and stepped back, looking to him as if he'd just dropped his pants. Taking no notice of her strange look, Draco went about his chore, trying his best to adequately change the diaper on his miniscule sibling and not letting his gaze... linger. Hermione found herself smiling at the scene... Draco's face was utterly disgusted, although he seemed not to notice. She humored herself by thinking it must have been the first naked female he'd ever seen... at least in person. Draco did calm down a bit once the dirty part of the job was done, and triumphantly stuck the tabs to their respective adhesive. "See," he cooed to Hazel, although it did little to stop her waterworks, then turned to Hermione. "I told you I could do it." Hermione giggled softly and nodded.  
  
"You sure did it alright," she agreed, and Draco lifted a skeptical eyebrow.  
  
"What?" Hermione pointed.  
  
"The diapers on backwards... and you forgot the ointment," Draco looked down at the baby and gave a slow nod. It did look a little odd, now that he looked again. Shaking her head, Hermione stepped in and unfastened the tabs, then flipped the diaper over and tucked it under. Holding Hazel down, she reached for the little tube of rash lotion, squirting a large dosage on her fingers and smiling to herself. The first time she'd needed to use it... Draco had asked if she were going to put gloves on first. With an inner giggle, Hermione spread the cool cream over the baby's lower region, smiling and making faces to keep Hazel happy. It seemed to work, but only for a moment or so. When her almost-sister was strapped up and re-dressed, Hermione lifted her up again, stepping around Draco and pulling the powdered formula from the cupboard. She thrust it at him with a slight smirk. "I trust you can make a bottle without difficulty," she stated and began cleaning up the changing mess.  
  
"Sure..." Draco said, sighing confidently. This was one field of child rearing he could handle; food. Once cleaned up, Hermione sat back down, fishing a pacifier from the baby basket and popping it into Hazel's mouth. To Draco's amazement, her whimpering died down. As if it were nothing, Hermione slung the baby over her shoulder and started rubbing her back. In no time there was complete silence. "How the hell..." Draco began, his voice giving away his instinctual reaction, but Hermione interrupted him.  
  
"Why didn't you wake up Lucifer?" she asked, yawning into Hazel's bundle of blankets. Draco snapped out of his funk and gave her a disbelieving look.  
  
"As if he'd ever let me live that down," he said and Hermione smirked slightly at the thought of his big brother's torment. She agreed with Draco; he'd never live it down.  
  
"Well, you could have CALLED me... I would have come over, you didn't have to bring her outside; it's freezing," she pointed out, and Draco thought this over. He nodded.  
  
"I suppose you're right... but I panicked, there was no way I'd think of something that simple." Hermione smirked.  
  
"As simple as feeding your poor little sister?" Draco looked down at the empty bottle in his hand and gave a tiny laugh.  
  
"Right..." he said, and set back to his job. Some water, shaking, and a warming spell later, Hazel was nestled contentedly in Hermione's arms, sucking on the bottle she was too weak to hold herself. Hermione moved to the living room so as to sit next to the fire, still afraid the tiny creature would catch some dreaded disease. Draco admitted he'd feel completely responsible, but was fairly confident that Hazel would be fine. He sat next to Hermione on the couch, watching as she held the bottle upright. The look of pure contentment on her face amazed him. He knew she was exhausted; they'd been up late together the last three nights in a row... but she'd always be doing most of the work. He also assumed she had prepared herself for a good night's sleep, only to be woken by his incessant pounding.... and now, just holding the source of all her discomfort in her arms, she looked so at peace. Draco knew it wouldn't last; she'd snap out of it the moment anything happened, but for that solitary moment in time... Hermione was happy. He wouldn't be surprised if she started humming... and he didn't understand it in the slightest.  
  
~  
  
As expected, when Hazel needed burping, the smile on Hermione's face quickly turned to a frown. She sighed and lifted the baby onto her shoulder, patting her gently until she released the pressure in her stomach.  
  
"There we go," Hermione cooed, almost as if she were as relieved as the baby, and brought her back onto her lap. Hazel seemed overly contented, however, and turned her head from the nipple, burying her face into Hermione's chest. She smiled again and passed the half empty bottle to Draco, who took it and set it aside, still watching the two women. Hermione rocked Hazel slightly, and it was mere minutes before the baby was sound asleep, making no noise but her gentle breathing and coo-like snores. Draco was purely amazed.  
  
"How do you DO that?" he whispered, afraid of waking the miniscule maiden, and Hermione looked up.  
  
"Do what?" Draco gave a slight laugh.  
  
"I don't know... you always just... know what to do... every time," he said, awed, and Hermione chuckled, shrugging a shoulder.  
  
"Maternal instinct?" she suggested and Draco shook his head slowly.  
  
"Call it what you want... you're amazing," he praised and Hermione smiled at him, nodding.  
  
"And I would have to agree..." she said, her last few words obstructed by a gallant yawn. Draco brought his eyes from the baby to her tired face.  
  
"I'm really sorry about this," he said, and she laughed quietly, shaking her head.  
  
"It's fine. I think I'm getting used to it," she said, then turned to Hazel, who was still snoozing. "And it's only for two more weeks, right? After the wedding, I only have to see YOU when I feel like it." Draco smiled softly.  
  
"I suppose we should get her to bed then," he said and stood up. Hermione looked up at him as if startled.  
  
"You're not leaving," she told him, holding Hazel protectively to her chest.  
  
"But..." Draco said, slightly confused.  
  
"No, Draco. It was stupid to take her outside once in weather like this, I'm not letting you do it again. Hazel is staying here and you're welcome to do the same," she said, sounding set in her ways, and Draco sighed, having no choice but to agree. He wasn't planning on leaving her all alone with the baby again... especially after his promise. If any getting up were necessary he would do it, unless her presence was unavoidably needed.  
  
"Fine," he said, sounding a tad saddened to have to impose on her. Hermione gave a decisive nod and pointed to her wand, which lay on the coffee table.  
  
"Hand me that?" she asked, and Draco quickly did as requested. Once in repossession of her magic stick, Hermione transfigured a near by chair into a simple crib, then looked up at Draco. He already read her intentions loud and clear, stepping forward and gently lifting Hazel from Hermione's arms. She smiled at how carefully he still held her... Lucius was anything but careful. It worried her sometimes how rough he was with the poor child... Hazel was constantly being thrown in the air, levitated, spun in circles, given mild tickling spells... for heaven's sake she could barely lift herself from the floor, and her father didn't think twice about it. Hazel seemed to enjoy the little feats of playtime... but all women in near vicinity, including Narcissa and Madeline, would gasp and bite their lips, constantly scolding Lucius.  
  
Although, Hermione had to admit, it was probably good for her. Lucifer, being the Malfoy's first son and child, was probably treated with much more caution than Draco, the second, had been... and, looking between them, it seemed a little daring could help. Draco was a star Quidditch player, never backed down from a dare, had a sharp tongue, and was very close to his father... Lucifer, on the other hand, had never gone farther than first year flying lessons when it came to broom riding, wouldn't be seen near any sort of muggle amusement outlet, such as a roller coaster, and had never been and vowed never to be on an airplane. Although his tongue could give a good lashing at times, Lucifer usually backed down from a verbal spar and, as much as Hermione loved him, she had to admit he was quite the Momma's boy. To this day, although he had just passed his twenty third birthday, Lucifer could be found accompanying Narcissa to the supermarket... driving her anywhere she wished to go... and serving tea during her knitting circles.  
  
So unlike Lucius, Draco was ever so gentle with Hazel. Even as he moved her the short distance from Hermione's arms to the crib just feet away, he did so with such caution and grace, making sure every step was correctly placed and soft, as not to jostle her awake. Hermione couldn't help but smile at the look of complete concentration on his face. When he finally made it to her crib side, Draco gently placed Hazel down on the soft mattress and covered her with a half dozen blankets. It was early November, and the snowy season was fast approaching... the temperature outside was dreadfully low. Thinking back, Hermione found herself now slightly worried about Draco. When he'd come in, all she'd been thinking of was Hazel... and how susceptible to disease she was. Draco was wearing nothing more than pajama pants, a t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers he'd slipped on over his sock-less feet, the backs folded under his heels. Hermione herself was wearing something similar, minus the shoes, and had gotten goose bumps just from opening the door... she could only imagine how it must have felt to walk three blocks like that... although, she admitted, he was probably too worried about Hazel to notice anyway.  
  
When the baby was set and sleeping comfortably, Draco stealthily backed up, as if afraid any sudden movement might cause her to wake. Hermione stood from the couch, joining her fiancé next to the crib. He was smiling and looking proud of himself, as if putting her down was his life's greatest achievement. Hermione smiled with him for a moment, then let her concern take over.  
  
"Draco, aren't you freezing? I don't need you getting sick either... then I'd have two babies to take care of," she said, smirking slightly, and Draco rolled his eyes.  
  
"I'm fine, H'mione," he insisted and Hermione threw up her hands, giving up before getting started.  
  
"Fine, fine... what do I know anyway?" she asked, grumbling as she walked back toward the couch, and Draco chuckled, looking after her. Hermione, straightening her wand arm, flicked it toward the couch, rendering it to silently unfold into a full sized bed. She'd have done it manually, but the noise may have woken Hazel... and she didn't exactly have the energy. Taking Draco's hand as if it were nothing, Hermione pulled him toward the bed, stepping onto it with her knees and crawling to the other side. She moaned slightly in comfort as she settled into the blankets and mumbled a 'g'night'. Draco smiled at her and kicked off his shoes, letting them hit the rug with a dull thump, before climbing in beside her. Hermione seemed to be already asleep by the time he was settled, and Draco couldn't help but stare at her a moment longer.  
  
The last four and a half months had been an eye opening experience for him. The reality of their betrothal was sinking in... and Draco found himself constantly pondering their future. The whole idea had finally been accepted, and he was now as eager as ever to marry the woman who lay next to him at that very moment. Just the thought of waking up to that sight every day for the rest of his life made his stomach flip. Draco wouldn't deny for a moment that he did care very deeply for Hermione... they had a very special bond. Somewhat like siblings, but with an unavoidable sexual tension that made him want to think of her in the most inappropriate ways. He tried to suppress these urges whenever possible... but his subconscious had a habit of reeking havoc on his desires... as well as his bed sheets. There had been more than one night when Draco had awoken in a cold sweat, sheets below him sticky and warm, and a clear as a bell image of Hermione in his mind. These dreams were somewhat welcomed, however. He hadn't allowed himself to indulge in the forbidden pleasure of manual release... he wanted to share whatever new sensations that might bring with Hermione, as he hoped she would share hers with him. The dreams provided him with an outlet for his sexual frustration... but they were somewhat inadequate. No matter how hard he tried, Draco could never remember what she looked like naked... he had a clear memory of her face, twisted in pleasure, but never of anything below her neckline. He supposed it may have been due to the fact that he HAD never seen her in that state... nor anyone else... but it still left him slightly emptied.  
  
When Draco was nearly positive that Hermione was again sleeping, he allowed himself to break one of his promises. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, right? Sliding down in the bed, Draco leaned in close, moving slowly until their breath mingled together. He smirked slightly and gently placed his lips upon hers. The sensation, so familiar, yet longed for... like a long lost love, took him over. The kiss, however one-sided, grew more passionate... as heavy as possible without access to her mouth. Undeniably, Hermione was broken from her relaxed state, somewhere between consciousness and sleep, and startled beyond comprehension. Instinctually, and before her brain could stop her, she kissed him back, opening her mouth to enjoy his exploration. It took a moment to realize that this was against the rules, and she pulled back quickly, breath slightly labored.  
  
"Stop it, Draco," she scolded, wiping her mouth as if he tasted foul. Draco felt a panicked lurch in his stomach; he hadn't meant to get caught. "I thought we had a deal," Hermione said, glaring, and Draco gave her a guilty smile.  
  
"At least I waited more than eleven seconds." Hermione pulled the pillow out from underneath her and beaned him once in the head before placing it back down and rolling over to face away, mumbling something about making him sleep on the floor. Draco, although disappointed that she'd turned, leaned back into his pillow with a very satisfied smirk on his face. He waited a good fifteen minutes, just reliving the kiss and desperately trying to find a patch of her taste on his lips. He sighed contentedly then, and turned his face back toward Hermione. He had no idea now if she were sleeping or not, but it didn't matter; he wasn't planning on kissing her. Hermione was a bit of a bed hog, and, already, was on his half of the bed. Not that Draco really minded, of course, but it gave way for opportunity. Tentatively, in case she was still awake, Draco tuned on his side and moved a bit closer, wrapping and arm around his bride-to-be and cradling her in a very comfortable spoons position. Whether in sleep or otherwise, Hermione cuddled toward him and held his arm like a teddy bear. Draco smiled at this and rested the bridge of his nose against the back of her head. Lying with Hermione in the firelight, while Hazel slept peacefully only feet away, Draco Malfoy found himself truly at peace. And, in that instant, he knew they would make it through whatever trials lay before them... even if he wasn't allowed to kiss her, or make too much noise. Moments like this made up for all the bad times.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
A/N Slightly shorter than most regular chapters, but there was a lot of backgrounding and explaining, so it really should count as more. Dialogue takes up a lot of space when you have to space your paragraphs this way. I hope you guys liked this; I spent a lot of time on it, and it's been bothering me for weeks. Those of you who were wondering about the other chapters of FLYT... there are no plans to make novels of any of the others, as of yet. The first chapter would make an okay novel, providing Seth got a way and went after them... but I'm not one for angst-y. In the third chapter, everyone dies... although I do plan to eventually write a one-shot sequel... but that won't be for a while. Forth...yes, that could continue... but there really isn't much conflict. I suppose I could have one of the children get kidnapped or something, but what good would that do? I'd personally kill whoever did it... especially after the scare Erilyn gave Draco.... ya know. And the fifth one COULD be continued...b ut it'd be another, run of the mill, D/Hr Hb/Hg fluff-o-rama... full of nothing but dances and projects and mindless sex. No thank you. Flames was enough. So anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and I will start the PRF's with the next chapter. That's Personal Reviewer Feedback, for those of you who don't know ;o)  
  
And, once again, anyone who wishes to do a sequel to MPES, please, send me an email @ CrypticCoruscation@yahoo.com. I'm eager to see what some of those will come up to. And, hey, if you want to continue any chapters of FLYT except this one and Barefoot is Beautiful, please, also drop me a note. That too would be fun to see. 


	3. Burgundy and Silver

Disclaimer: HP don't belong to me :oD  
  
Previously on PS:  
  
Hermione pulled the pillow out from underneath her and beaned him once in the head before placing it back down and rolling over to face away, mumbling something about making him sleep on the floor. Draco, although disappointed that she'd turned, leaned back into his pillow with a very satisfied smirk on his face. He waited a good fifteen minutes, just reliving the kiss and desperately trying to find a patch of her taste on his lips. He sighed contentedly then, and turned his face back toward Hermione. He had no idea now if she were sleeping or not, but it didn't matter; he wasn't planning on kissing her. Hermione was a bit of a bed hog, and, already, was on his half of the bed. Not that Draco really minded, of course, but it gave way for opportunity. Tentatively, in case she was still awake, Draco tuned on his side and moved a bit closer, wrapping and arm around his bride-to-be and cradling her in a very comfortable spoons position. Whether in sleep or otherwise, Hermione cuddled toward him and held his arm like a teddy bear. Draco smiled at this and rested the bridge of his nose against the back of her head. Lying with Hermione in the firelight, while Hazel slept peacefully only feet away, Draco Malfoy found himself truly at peace. And, in that instant, he knew they would make it through whatever trials lay before them... even if he wasn't allowed to kiss her, or make too much noise. Moments like this made up for all the bad times.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
CHAPTER THREE: Burgundy and Silver  
  
Hermione woke only hours later to the familiar cries of baby Hazel. She groaned as she remembered the previous night and rolled toward Draco, planning on poking him until he woke up; he WAS supposed to be watching her alone, as the matter was. As opposed to feeling the warm body of her boyfriend beside her, Hermione found herself with the sinking feeling one gets in their stomach right before a fall. She steadied herself, rolling back and balancing on the edge of the bed, and took a breath to calm her heartbeat. Hermione fluttered her eyes open a moment later and looked around the room, confused. As she expected, she was on the very edge of the bed, in a place she should have found a blonde Slytherin. The mattress was still warm below her, signaling to the fact that he hadn't been gone long, however, and upon closer inspection, Hermione noted that the younger Malfoy was also missing.  
  
The shrill cries sounded again, and Hermione sat up, spinning her head in the direction of the noise. A warm smile crossed her lips as she located the blonde duo that resided with her that chilly autumn night. Draco was sitting at a stool in the kitchen, looking weary as he shushed his sister and patted her back. Deciding better of alerting them to her consciousness, Hermione settled back into her pillow, moving again to her side of the bed, and listened as her future groom sang quietly in a deep baritone voice. She fell asleep to the smooth tones faster than Hazel did, as when Draco returned to bed, he was none-the-wiser of her antics.  
  
When Hermione woke again, she need not move a muscle to know that Draco was right beside her. For one, his body was pressed closely to hers and an arm encircled her small frame. She didn't bother to open her eyes as she smiled, listening to his gentle snores. It was decided in that instant that Hermione preferred waking up beside him to waking alone... Draco had a keen ability to make even simple pleasures better.  
  
A rustle from a distance alerted her to the fact that she was not the first to rise that morning. Hermione opened her eyes and tilted her head upward to see Hazel on all fours in her crib, holding her chest from the ground and looking toward her with cherubic blue eyes. At the notation that Hermione too was awake, Hazel gave a great smile and started to blow little wet raspberries. Her watcher laughed softly and turned her head back into the pillow, entertaining the idea of gaining a few more moments rest, but Hazel had other plans. She gave a sharp cry, which literally caused Hermione to jump, and the idea was forgone.  
  
"Alright, Hazy, I'm coming, I'm coming," she assured, and gently lifted the anchor of Draco's arm, allowing her to slip from the bed unnoticed. He seemed not to mind this in the slightest, as Draco didn't make so much as a muscle twitch to alert to the actuality that he was in fact alive. With a soft chuckle, Hermione made her way to Hazel's crib and lifted her onto her hip. "You did good, love... it's almost eight o'clock... I think that's a record for you." Hermione whispered to the little blonde, who simply rested her body against the chest in her way like a rag doll.  
  
If Hermione let him sleep, which she was planning on, Draco would be out for a good few more hours. She smiled at him as if he were a knight fresh home from battle; he'd gotten up last night without protest... and dealt with the matter of Hazel without her help. Frankly, she was very proud of him. With the possible exception of changing diapers, Draco was entirely capable of taking care of the baby. As much as he'd deny it, he had a way with her. Hermione may be able to shush her, but Draco could put her to sleep faster than he could himself. Maybe it was that honey smooth voice of his... but whatever it was, it'd given them more sleep than he could imagine.  
  
When Hazel was contentedly sitting in her clamp-on high chair, Hermione decided she might do well to send a letter to Lucifer. Whenever he dragged his arse out of bed, he'd probably be confused. Not worried, necessarily, until at least twenty-four hours had lapsed, but confused nonetheless. After a quick game of peek-a-boo to entertain the tot who was growing slightly restless, Hermione summoned her owl from its room upstairs. More commonly known as the owlry, Iago's room was a small, unused bedchamber that housed one perpetually opened window, all the owl treats one could want, and plenty of water for those long journeys. Leaving behind only the flap of the owl door, Iago flew down the stairs and directly to Hermione's waiting hand. Hazel squealed in delight, which earned her a surprised look from Hermione; she'd never done that before. The baby simply stared with wide eyes, as if surprised herself, and Hermione laughed before scribbling a short note addressed to 'Lucy' and signed 'Sis'.  
  
It was like a game they played. Ever since she could remember, Lucifer had referred to her as 'Sis'. Being nearly ten years old when they were originally betrothed, he'd understood what it meant more thoroughly than the couple themselves. When she'd entered Hogwarts and her mother had begun to send her letters about Aunt Lucy, referring to Lucius, Hermione had devised a plan of vengeance. She'd called Lucifer Lucy each time he called her Sis. Once it didn't bother him so much anymore, he pretended to be annoyed, just to entertain her. Hermione was no fool and knew of his tricks, but didn't halt in name calling nonetheless.  
  
Once the letter was off with her tawny barn owl, Hermione set about making breakfast, sparing a moment here and there to entertain her future sister- in-law. In some small way, she hoped the smell of her cooking would wake Draco. That boy never was one to miss a meal... if made within twenty feet of him.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
It was about one thirty that afternoon that Draco was startled from feeding Hazel by the opening of the front door, followed by laughter. Hermione too looked up from her Daily Prophet, only to see four familiar adults make their way toward the kitchen. She shared a confused look with Draco, who simply shrugged his shoulders and continued bottle-feeding his sister. Before either of the teenagers could speak a word, a thin blonde woman bustled over to her children.  
  
"Aw, there's Mummy's little angel," she cooed, taking her daughter from Draco's arms and ruffling his hair.  
  
"Mum," he said in soft annoyance, and Narcissa laughed.  
  
"Mum," Hermione said, turning to the other woman, who sported shoulder length bronze curls. "What are you all doing here, I thought you were house hunting." At this question, Draco too looked to the addressed adults, wondering the same thing. In truth, he and Hermione hadn't expected to see their parents again until the next afternoon at the earliest. Madeline Boyce gave her husband a smirk.  
  
"Well, love... there was no sense in staying away without reason." Draco lifted an eyebrow, glancing to his parents, confused, but Hermione looked slightly excited.  
  
"You found a house?" she asked, her eyes grazing over all four adults, whose looks assured her accuracy. Draco straightened a bit at this, looking quite interested himself.  
  
"Well," he said, "When can we see it?" Hunter Boyce, Hermione's father, gave a hearty chuckle and placed a hand on his wife's corresponding shoulder.  
  
"Not for two more weeks, Draco. Proper etiquette and all." Although looking a little disappointed, Draco gave a slight nod. Hermione, however, would not give up so easily.  
  
"Well at least tell us about it then," she pleaded and the men shared a look.  
  
"Nothing much of course," said Hermione's father and Lucius gave a nod.  
  
"Twelve bedrooms... sixteen bath..." The smile on the bride-to-be's face fell, as did that of her future groom. It was well known to Draco that Hermione despised large houses... and the home their parents spoke of seemed larger than Buckingham. It was entirely too much for anyone... Malfoy Manor wasn't even that large. Although the back yard did run for twenty acres, housing practically nothing but trees and scenery. Hermione did enjoy this aspect, however, as she loved to ride horses, and it was the perfect getaway.  
  
The Boyce estate, however, stretched over much of Wizarding England, but was broken into pieces... a Ranch in the north, Oceanside cottage on the coast... not too much in one place. What bothered Draco the most about this new information of his future home, was that he'd specifically told his mother before they left not to even look at anything too large, and that he would only agree to something smaller than the Manor. She had AGREED. Narcissa had promised him that both he and Hermione would love their new home... and she hated it already, he could tell.  
  
"Twelve..." Hermione mumbled in awe, overwhelmed by this new information. There was a brief silence in which all four adults grinned widely, as if proud of their accomplishment, but it was followed by a collective laugh from each.  
  
"We were joking, love," Hunter said, patting his daughter on the back, and she let out a soft breath.  
  
"Scared me for a minute there, Daddy," she admitted and Draco smiled.  
  
"So, jests of life long misery aside, would you care to tell us something of substance?" he asked, earning a look from his mother, which told him not to speak so disrespectfully. Lucius laughed and stepped up behind his son.  
  
"So impatient, aren't we, boy?" Draco gave them all an innocent smile, which caused Hermione to playfully roll her eyes. "Five bedrooms," Lucius continued, "but of course they needn't be used as such, and three bath." Draco looked to Hermione, who seemed entirely pleased by such a thing, and nodded.  
  
"Alright then."  
  
"Anything else?" Hermione asked, now sounding just as excited as she had before the little gag. Madeline laughed.  
  
"Well, of course... but you'll have to wait and see what, won't you?" Hermione looked a tad put out, but kept a smile.  
  
"And in the meantime," Narcissa announced, handing her daughter over to her husband, "We have some shopping to do." Hermione looked as if she'd just eaten something rotten.  
  
"Shopping? Already?"  
  
"Yep, now come on... we better get going," Madeline chirped, shoving a heavy overcoat in her daughter's direction. Hermione sent a pleading look to Draco, but he just smirked and wiggled his fingers. She scowled, donning her coat and following the two chattering women out the front door without so much as a look behind her. She knew she'd have to do this eventually, but he could have said SOMETHING.  
  
"Alright, love, what first?" Madeline asked when they'd all piled into her car and pulled a folded list from her pocket, handing it to her daughter. With a slight look of distaste, Hermione opened the paper and read through her choices. Dress, Flowers, Cake, Photographer, Decorations, Balloons, House (which was crossed off) and the list went on and on. Hermione groaned.  
  
"We're going to do all this today?" she asked, and the women nodded eagerly.  
  
"As much as we can. So, where to?" Hermione sighed.  
  
"Might as well start at the top..."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
"Oh, I've always loved muggle dresses," Narcissa crooned as she and Madeline looked through book after book of what the store clerk assured were the finest wedding dresses this side of the Atlantic. Hermione stood on a stool, in front of a mirror, admiring their latest choice for her. In actuality, she found it too fancy. It was big and white, of course, with a very long train and hoards of beads and lace. It did look lovely... but of course, all the dresses were magically flattering. "Oh, Maddy, how about this one?" Madeline looked over to Narcissa's book and turned her head from side to side.  
  
"Hm... a bit fancy, isn't it?" Hermione let out an almost silent groan. If her mother thought it was too fancy, she could only imagine what it must look like. "Well, let's try it and see. Veristito six fifty nine," she chanted, raising a wand to her daughter, who closed her eyes until the swishing of fabric ceased. And then, she was almost afraid to open them. "You know, Cissa, I DO like that one..." Braving a look at what she would probably be wearing in two weeks time (it'd been the most decisive reaction her mother had had so far), Hermione opened her eyes. It was hideous. There were false hips and an exaggerated rear, making her waist look a considerable amount larger, widened shoulders with large poofing cuffs that tickled her ears, no sleeves, and an array of little white flowers and beads.  
  
"Mother, no," she stated determinedly, and Madeline looked slightly surprised. Hermione hadn't said a word about any of the dresses since they'd begun.  
  
"Well, alright then, why don't you come and look yourself?" she asked challengingly, but Hermione felt like kissing her. If she picked from the beginning, they'd have been out of there hours ago. She tried to step off the stool, but found herself rather tied down.  
  
"I'd love to, Mother... but I'm afraid I can't move." Narcissa, who also hadn't been too fond of that dress (now that she'd seen it on her daughter- in-law to be), giggled and passed Hermione a catalogue. "Thank you, Cissa." Hermione browsed quickly through the book, turning pages at an alarming rate. Each and every dress seemed much too fancy and extravagant. She continued like this for just over a minute, and left nearly half the book in her wake, until... Hermione stopped mid-turn and gently let the page fall back down. A large smile crept across her face, and she looked up at her mother before closing the book. "I'd like to see eight forty two, please, Mum." With a slight shrug, Madeline cast the spell.  
  
Hermione nearly gasped. It looked even better than in the book. The dress she had chosen was a Celtic style, with form fit to the waist, exaggerating her curves, and a fluttery skirt that would have touched the floor, had she not been elevated. The sleeves were made of the same material, open from the elbow and extending far past arm's length. The simplicity was accented by a beautiful silver strip of embroidery that laced around her neck and down the front of the dress to the floor. She loved it more than she could ever imagine loving a dress. Hermione felt like a medieval princess.  
  
The two women sitting to the side stared wide-eyed at their daughter, amazed at how wonderful she looked in such a simple dress. Hermione gently took her skirt in her hands, lifting it high enough to spin around, allowing herself to view the back, which was tied like a corset with a matching silver cord, and the train, which was, in her opinion, just the right length, stretching only so much as to be noticeable. Satisfied, Hermione gave a little giggle, lifting her shoulders, and turned back to her matrons.  
  
"What do you think?" she asked, hoping against all hope that they agreed... Hermione honestly didn't think she could live if she was forced to try on one more dress... and she absolutely loved this one. Narcissa looked very approving, a good sign, but Madeline looked unsure. Hermione frowned the tiniest bit. "Mum?"  
  
"Isn't it a little... plain?" Hermione grinned.  
  
"That's why I like it," she assured, "Don't you?"  
  
"Well," her mother stated, tilting her head to the side in a silent debate. The pleading look from her daughter caved her in. "I do, love... I do... but maybe we could... add a little something here and there?" Hermione shook her head.  
  
"I want it just the way it is. Please, Mum?" Madeline looked to Narcissa, as if asking for help, but she seemed to be siding with Hermione. With two on one, she had no choice, and sighed. "I'll let you pick out whatever shoes you want," Hermione added, as if asking for a truce, and her mother laughed.  
  
"Alright, alright... if you're sure." Hermione squealed and lifted her skirt again, jumping down from the stool and briskly making her way toward her mother for a hug.  
  
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she praised before going back to the mirror to admire herself some more.  
  
"Well, if that's the one you want, no sense dawdling," Madeline said, flicking her wand toward her daughter, rendering the dress to fold and wrap itself in a box, and Hermione to once again be wearing her simple jeans and sweater. She looked slightly disappointed at the thought that she wouldn't get to wear it again until the wedding day itself, but the fact that she'd get to wear it again at all made Hermione bubbly and light.  
  
After Madeline had selected the fanciest pair of silver shoes she could find and Narcissa, to be fair, had found a crown-like veil that would match perfectly, the three women paid for their pleasantries and left the boutique, with Hermione skipping ahead. A quick trip to the car and they were again empty handed.  
  
"What time is it, Mum?" Hermione asked, as she skipped toward the flower shop across the way. Ah, the convenience of malls... probably the best Muggle-influenced thing Wizards had.  
  
"Just past three, love," Madeline said, smiling at the carefree spirit of her daughter. Maybe that dress was a good idea... this was certainly much easier than dragging her everywhere. Hermione, however, looked surprised. She'd expected it was much, much later... she must have been more bored than she'd originally thought.  
  
Just minutes later, as they browsed through the rows and rows of silk flowers, Hermione saw a basket of burgundy calla lilies and was struck with a note of sheer brilliance. She lifted a spritz of the delicate flowers, charmed to look, feel, and smell real, and made her way over toward her mother.  
  
"Mum..." she said, and Madeline turned around, a bright smile on her face. Hermione held the little bouquet like it were her bridal, an innocent smile on her face. Madeline lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"Yes?" she asked a tad suspiciously, and Hermione giggled.  
  
"I have an idea."  
  
"You have an idea?" her mother repeated and Hermione nodded.  
  
"Let's hear it, then," Narcissa said, coming in from behind, and looking excited.  
  
"Well..." Hermione started, looking between them. Narcissa looked encouraging, but Madeline seemed just surprised. "I was thinking we could do everything in correspondence to my dress... Medieval, like. The church is already very gothic... and we could do burgundy and... earth tones. What do you think?" she suggested, looking a bit nervous that her mother wouldn't agree. Narcissa, of course, looked supportive. She seemed to want Hermione to want what she wanted, as opposed to picking out things in her favor. Contrary to expectation, Madeline looked just as ecstatic.  
  
"That's a wonderful idea, love! I can see it now... rose petals on the floor... torches and lace... oh, and we can do your hair... you're a genius, Mina!" she agreed enthusiastically, hugging Hermione's shoulders. She laughed.  
  
"Oh, and I don't want Draco to know, so we can't tell Daddy or Uncle Lucius," she added, and Narcissa looked confused.  
  
"But what about when they go for tuxes?" Hermione laughed.  
  
"I don't want him to wear breeches or anything," she said, sticking out her tongue. "All the guys can have regular suits... the guests won't dress in theme, so it won't look odd." Narcissa gave a slow nod.  
  
"Yes, I suppose that's true." With this agreed, Hermione let her mothers go wild. She liked almost everything they decided on, and let them go. She had her dress... and the theme... everything was going to be perfect, no matter if she didn't particularly like orchids.  
  
The rest of the day flew past without a hitch. It was decided that the reception, which was to be held at Malfoy Manor, would be done in a traditional fashion, as so the boys could set it up while they worked on the church. Burgundy and silver became the official colors, and the balloons and cake reflected them. The only thing left to work out was the photographer, and Narcissa assured she had the perfect person in mind.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
The three women arrived back at the Boyce estate just after twilight and Hermione excitedly shrunk everything and hid it in all in a tiny wooden chest she'd bought at the flower shop. It was originally meant to be home to a small bouquet of silk flowers, but Hermione placed everything within and brought it inside and up to her room, placing the whole lot safely in the closet before spinning back around and flying down the stairs. Narcissa had decided to stay for a cup of tea with her mother, but the men were nowhere to be found. Hermione assumed they were back at the manor, and excused herself from the older women, kissing each on the cheek.  
  
"Don't tell him about your dress, love! It's bad luck!" called Madeline as Hermione re-buttoned her pea coat and she laughed.  
  
"Of course not, Mum! That would ruin everything anyway," she assured before stepping back through the door and dashing the three blocks to her fiancé's home. She made her way directly up to Draco's room, her hands flying to the knobs. Surprisingly, however, they didn't turn, so she opted for knocking, wearing a confused expression on her face.  
  
"Who is it?" called a slightly nervous voice, and Hermione found herself starting to get suspicious.  
  
"It's me, Draco, open up," she called back with a final knock, and a good long moment went by before he did come to the door.  
  
"Hi," Draco said breathily, wearing a winning smile, but Hermione's eyebrows were furrowed.  
  
"Hi..." she exchanged, stepping into the room, eyes locked on his. Draco frowned a bit at the look on her face, but didn't say anything. Hermione simply looked around the room, as if searching for incriminating evidence. The only thing out of place in the room was Draco himself, whose clothes were wrinkled and displaced, belt unbuckled, shirt only partially tucked in, and hair tousled. Of course, this could be simply Draco being himself... but Hermione didn't think as logically. She turned to face him. "You don't have a girl in here, do you?" she asked, crossing her arms, and Draco laughed out loud.  
  
"What?" he asked, but his answer was nowhere near nervous. Hermione lifted an eyebrow, and he sighed. "Alright, you caught me," he agreed, looking defeated, and started toward the closet. Hermione didn't know how to feel... firstly, that was totally uncharacteristic of him, and secondly, he'd given up very easily. If a girl came out of that closet however... oh, hell would break loose. Hermione took in a breath as Draco disappeared behind the door of his vast walk-in closet, but exhaled in relief when he came back out, holding Hazel. She approached him quickly, taking the baby in her own arms.  
  
"Why did you put her in the closet?" she asked, confused, and Draco shrugged.  
  
"She got in there by accident, and cried when I took her out, so I figured we'd compromise. I put her playpen in there," he said, scratching his head as if confused by his sister's behavior himself. He walked past Hermione and to the bed, sitting down and stretching slightly. "So, have fun?" Hermione glared slightly.  
  
"Speaking of such, I'd be mad at you for not saying anything..." she started, but then grinned. "If I actually didn't have fun." Draco looked confused.  
  
"Okay... you went shopping... with our mothers... for something such as a wedding... and, enjoyed it?" Hermione nodded.  
  
"Cissa helped a lot... anything I wanted she agreed with, and we ganged up on Mum."  
  
"So...?"  
  
"So what? I can't tell you anything, I promised them." Draco feigned outrage.  
  
"What! How dare you! I have just as much say!" he insisted, and Hermione laughed, placing Hazel beside him on the bed, propped up against a pillow.  
  
"I have to say though," Hermione continued, "My mother has the worst taste in everything... there was this one dress..." she shuddered. "Let me show you..." Hermione fished in her pocket for her wand and charmed one of the bed drapes to take the form of her mother's hideous dress, then slip itself onto her. Although it was black velvet, the effect was enough. Draco burst out laughing.  
  
"You're kidding... she did NOT like that," he said, but Hermione nodded and turned around shaking her bum at him.  
  
"Yep. Pretty, hm?"  
  
"Please tell me you didn't agree on it?"  
  
"I suppose you'll have to wait and see, won't you?" she stated, smirking. "After all, I did promise." Draco looked frankly a little scared. Hermione laughed. "Whaddaya think, Hazy?" she asked, stepping toward the little blonde and tickling her tummy. She squealed in delight, and Hermione smiled. "Guess she likes it too."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Wedding bells are ringing! I honestly hope this wasn't too boring... I know it sometimes can be when there are chapters like this... but I tried, I did! Lol, for those of you thinking, there is NO WAY you could get everything for a wedding down and done in two weeks... I know. But these are magic people. They don't have to wait in line, or wait for their dresses to be made or altered... or their cake baked, or bouquets made... you get it. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they got it all done in one day! Lol. I love that dress... :oD if you want to see it, go to  
  
that's the dress, but the sleeves are more like this:  
  
I love pretty things :oD  
  
PRF: Wow! First, let me say, I'm overwhelmed by the number of reviews I got! Yes, it has been days since I updated... but it was only two chapters! One of which was already posted once! AND I GOT 30 REVIEWS! You guys rock!...... As per etiquette from now on, I'm only reply to reviews of context. As much as I love the "Great story!" and "Update soon!" s, I see no point in really writing back. This is just to conserve space.  
  
I LeAeNa SeRpEnTiS I: Not quite :oD  
  
October Potter-Snape: Yes, Draco has good intentions, but... sometimes he doesn't think things through :oD It was sweet though, huh?  
  
Brenda: Hey, you could be my 800th... if you don't mind being reviewers 30- 799 as well :oD And yes, I like to have what everyone thinks in her... except of course for some things. This was almost entirely Hermione's point of view, but next chapter, or whenever they go tux-ing, it will be mostly Draco's. I mean, he can't really be too interested... he's a guy... it's a wedding. Ya, ya... Liking the plot is good too :oD  
  
Brokenhearted: Yes, of course, Harry and Ron have to know! They gotta come! Lol.  
  
Diana: :oD I like to be different. And my Malfoys are usually nice... well, not Lucius so much... but Narcissa always is. The Guilly Lucius is quite nice too, as a matter of fact ;o) I know, aren't D/Hr cute! They're like a brother and sister.  
  
Befuzzled: Yes, chapter one was originally posted as the second chapter of FLYT. It's still there, as a matter of fact.  
  
Lumos-n-nox: I'm debating on when to give them a baby. Not at first, of course, but ya know... I have to get through the whole Harry/Ron thing... that's going to be the major conflict. I'm thinking I'll make them take it in a very strange and unanticipated way, you know... well, you WILL know... I'm not going to tell you yet! :oD  
  
Crystalline Lily: Doesn't Draco just make ya wanna... make babies with him?! Lol. And you're the first person to point out the Lucifer (Devil) the momma's boy! Congrats! Yes, they were shopping... but they were house hunting for their offspring, so I suppose it's not so bad :oD And lol... glomp?  
  
Mesmer: yep... It was chappy 2 of FLYT. I liked it too... and that's my fav. song! :oD  
  
Lovestruckbyanelf: You bet I'm continuing! We're talking novel-length here :oD  
  
Anna: Hm... I never really thought of it as an AU fic, because they did go to Hogwarts and everything was the same... but I guess you could think of it like that. I'm glad you continued reading, despite your initial feeling. Now I feel all warm and fuzzy :oD  
  
Croft: What exactly do you mean by not Hogwarts related? I'm sorry; lol, I'm usually in the dark :oD And yes, I know all about stuff being overused. Most of my stories have some sort of overused quality to them... you know, OTHER than the D/Hr pairing. :oD And yes... I agree about the baby thing. I hate it when they like have a baby and it's all ABOUT the baby. MPES had a lot to do with Jr. ... but more so with Draco's coming home. Ya. Lucifer the Momma's boy ;o) And yes... Draco may be rash and illogical, but he is sweet :oD And chapter 2 was only about a page shorter than most of my chapters... it was only 9, usually I write 10  
  
Harmonic Sakke: Ohayo Miss Sakke. And yes, that was supposed to surprise you (Uncle Lucius) :oD And I'm not evious of Hermione's Hazel problem either... considering I have a one and one month old one of my own. More commonly known as Kaitlin. :oD. But she's a cutie :oD. And... he wasn't TRYING to be romantic, he was just thinking of himself. If there's no Hermione... who'll he play with? ;o)  
  
Swimcutie: Aw, the compliments... I shall drown in your kind words, good sir. (I know you're not a sir ;o) )  
  
Summerkins: Oh yes, much much different from Guilly... but I like it nonetheless. 


	4. Pigs and Mice

Disclaimer: All... everythings, rights, ideas, characters... expressed in this fic belong to JKRowling. Yep, they do. Surprising, isn't it? :oD  
  
Previously on PS:  
  
"I have to say though," Hermione continued, "My mother has the worst taste in everything... there was this one dress..." she shuddered. "Let me show you..." Hermione fished in her pocket for her wand and charmed one of the bed drapes to take the form of her mother's hideous dress, then slip itself onto her. Although it was black velvet, the effect was enough. Draco burst out laughing.  
  
"You're kidding... she did NOT like that," he said, but Hermione nodded and turned around shaking her bum at him.  
  
"Yep. Pretty, hm?"  
  
"Please tell me you didn't agree on it?"  
  
"I suppose you'll have to wait and see, won't you?" she stated, smirking. "After all, I did promise." Draco looked frankly a little scared. Hermione laughed. "Whaddaya think, Hazy?" she asked, stepping toward the little blonde and tickling her tummy. She squealed in delight, and Hermione smiled. "Guess she likes it too."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
CHAPTER FOUR: Pigs and Mice  
  
Hermione grumbled as she made her way from the kitchen to the door, where someone was quite animatedly ringing the doorbell. Her mother and father were groggily eating pancakes, which she had painstakingly cooked herself, and simply mumbled requests as they heard the ring. When she opened the door, a familiar blonde became visible, leaning against the wall, which extended a foot or so past the door. An undeniable smile graced her lips.  
  
"Hey. Bit early, isn't it?" Draco smirked and lifted a shoulder.  
  
"I knew you'd be up. Nice robe, by the way." Hermione looked down at herself and, if he were anyone else, would have blushed. She was in fact wearing silk shorts and a cotton tank top under her robe, which only stretched to mid-thigh.  
  
"Thanks. Coming in?" Draco chuckled.  
  
"If you insist. Although, I'm not staying long; but have no fear, you're coming with me," he said as he stepped past her and into the living room. Hermione lifted and eyebrow at him as she closed the door.  
  
"Why? And more importantly, where?" Draco tried to remain innocent.  
  
"Oh, nowhere you haven't been before. The invitations have arrived, although undeniably late, and Mother has requested your presence as she addresses them," he said, then added, "And, due to the fact that my brother is up and licking envelopes, I would request you don some... warmer attire?" Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"Fine, fine... give me five minutes," she agreed, dashing up the stairs without another word. Draco chuckled to himself as he slipped off his black leather trench coat.  
  
"I'll make that fifteen," he mumbled before seating himself on the sofa. As expected, it took Hermione considerably longer than five minutes... in fact, it was around twenty when Draco started to get impatient. Being a gentleman, however, he kept his watch over the living room, allowing her as much time as she needed. He only hoped it'd be worth it.  
  
Of course, it was.  
  
Hermione could be heard tumbling down the stairs at a record twenty-six and a half minutes. She was, in Draco's opinion, worth the wait... but he would never tell her so. He loved everything from the little fur-lined Eskimo snow boots to the tight buns which resided on each side of her head, dangling with red and pink ribbons that matched her top. She held up a finger to him and Draco nodded impassively as he watched her bid adieu to her parents, then scurry back into the room.  
  
"Alright, I'm ready." Draco nodded and led her back toward the door, opening it while she donned black gloves.  
  
"About time. You do realize we are merely going to meet my mother, and she is only at my house, don't you? Was I hazy on that before?" Hermione, although laughing, poked him in the ribs.  
  
"So what if I want to look good. Is that a crime? And besides, you never know who'll show up." Draco bit back his original 'You always look good', and replaced the smug smirk of a witty retort with a frown.  
  
"You're still waiting on Harry and Ron, aren't you?" Hermione frowned as well, crossing her arms and looking away. Although they'd only walked a block, and it'd taken them about five minutes, a rosy tint was already forming in her cheeks.  
  
"And if I am?" she spoke defiantly, as if trying to prove her loyalty. Draco sighed.  
  
"Hermione..." It had been nearly three months since she'd even heard from either of her school chums. She'd wanted to wait until a few weeks before the wedding, but Draco thought it better if she alerted them sooner. After a game of heads-or-tails, which dubbed Draco victor, Hermione had promised to tell them everything in what would be a very lengthy letter, as soon as they wrote her their first of the summer. Unfortunately, that letter arrived via Hedwig no less than a week after she'd returned to her home. As promised, Hermione wrote a seven-page letter describing her identity, predicament, relationship with Draco, and the numerous reasons why they'd been left out. She had yet to receive a reply.  
  
"Draco, I don't care what you say. I know Harry and Ron... they'll understand... they have to understand. They wouldn't just abandon me." Draco, lifting his hands as request for seize-fire, pretended to literally back off.  
  
"Alright, alright... I'm sorry. So... what are you going to do?"  
  
"Send them invitations," Hermione replied as if it were the most rudimentary thing possible, but Draco seemed surprised.  
  
"Just... send them invitations? Did you tell them about the betrothal?" Hermione remained silent. "I believe that would be a no..."  
  
"Well, I thought I'd soften the blow a bit and save that until my next letter... but I can't break the back and forth... it's like tradition. Etiquette. Unchangeable."  
  
"And a wedding invitation between their best friend and worst enemy won't come as a total shock?" Hermione shifted her arms a bit, as if uncomfortable.  
  
"Don't you think I've thought of that? I can't think of another way... if I don't hear from them... I'll leave them to their peace. If they don't want me, I'll keep away... simple as that." Draco sighed.  
  
"Aw, come on... Hermione," he said, almost pleadingly. He didn't want her to feel unwanted... Harry and Ron weren't everyone. "Don't go getting all depressed on me. You've got to help Mum. Come on now, big smile. Like this," he prodded and gave a big and cheesy grin, chock full of pearly teeth. Of course, he looked absolutely ridiculous, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh at him. "There ya go. See?" he asked, swooping behind her and to her other side, gripping her shoulders and shaking playfully as if she were hot cocoa. Hermione couldn't help but smile after that. Draco could always do that... always make her smile. "Oh," he said after a moment, "And I was going to tell you... you'd have looked good even if you kept your word and came down in five minutes."  
  
"Oh really?" she asked, smirking at his near satisfactory attempt at a compliment, although cheesy. "Do you mean that, or are you hinting at something?"  
  
"Oh, I mean it..." he assured. "I don't know why you bother, anyway. What took so long? You girls... you've got about as much ability to manage a time budget as you do a cash one."  
  
"And you're any better? What was that last thing you bought... oh, that's right. A Harley?"  
  
"Hey!" Draco said, laughing. "That's not fair. I took that back." Hermione laughed.  
  
"Only because Cissa fainted and we had to pretend it never happened."  
  
"Alright, given... but I still don't see why you women take so much time to get ready. Honestly, it's all of you. Mum... Maddy... lord, it even takes Hazy half an hour to get dressed... and that's with help! And don't even tell me it's your hair, because, being a very vain and proud of it male, I happen to know that with skill that could also be accomplished in under five minutes." Hermione gave a snort.  
  
"Yeah, when all you have to do is run your hand over it. I'd like to see you make pigs in a blanket on your head in five minutes. I've been doing my hair my entire life... I know these things."  
  
"Is that what that's called?" he asked, gesturing to her head, and Hermione gave a shrug.  
  
"That's what I've always called it."  
  
"Well..." Draco said, pretending as if he were inspecting this new creation. "I think it makes you look like a mouse." Hermione's jaw dropped in outrage.  
  
"Excuse me?" she snapped, placing hands on her hips, and Draco blinked his eyes innocently. In retaliation, Hermione pushed him. Being as Draco was of much greater mass than she, he barely moved... but when he pushed her back, she toppled right into the shrubbery behind her. After a bit of a fight and many small wails of struggle, Hermione freed herself from the bush's confines, only to see Draco had dashed down the street. "Draco Demetrius Malfoy, you get your scrawny Slytherin arse back here right now!" she called down the street, and Draco turned around, giving her a tiny wave before picking up speed and heading toward home. With a scowl, Hermione stormed after him, huffing the entire way.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
When Hermione made it into Malfoy Manor, Draco was nowhere to be seen. She sighed and pulled off her gloves before heading toward the drawing room, which seemed the most likely place to address a thousand some-odd envelopes. The door was closed, but there was definite movement behind, so Hermione knocked.  
  
"Cissa? It's Hermione."  
  
"Oh! Come in dear! I'm glad you're finally here!" called the unmistakable voice of Narcissa Malfoy, and Hermione took her advice, stepping through the doorway. Her mother-in-law was sitting at a desk, a stack of addressed envelopes to one side, and a larger stack of blanks to the other. Hermione watched as she placed three or four different cards in one envelope and scribbled out an address, then handed it to Lucifer, who, as Draco had said, was licking envelopes. As Hermione entered, Lucifer stopped mid-lick and sniggered. Hermione lifted an eyebrow, but at that moment, Narcissa looked up. "Hermione, love, what happened?" she asked, making Hermione feel extremely self conscious. She brought a hand to her face, as if expecting to feel blood.  
  
"What do you mean?" The older women stood from her seat and bustled over, then proceeded to pick something from Hermione's hair.  
  
"Leaves," she explained, holding them out to her. Hermione scowled at the little green plants.  
  
"Draco," she said, then sighed. "Prick. Anyway... what do I do?" Narcissa, clueless expression forgone, smiled.  
  
"Well," she said, "If you can put the packets together while I address them, it will go much faster. I already have the list your mother wrote up, and I've added mine. When we're done with that, you can have whatever's left. Draco has already informed me that he has no one he wishes to invite. Typical, if you ask me." Hermione, as requested, sat down and began assembling the packets, after much instruction from her matron.  
  
"Why is there so much?"  
  
"Well, there's the invite... then the reply card and envelope, a menu, a schedule, directions, and the address to send gifts to. Quite a lot, isn't it?" Hermione nodded, and started in.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
It was nearly noon before the trio had come close to even remotely finishing the list of people. In the end, Narcissa had counted out the number she needed (as Hermione had become quite good at her job and filled the remainder much quicker than Narcissa could emboss them with fancy calligraphy) and given the rest to her daughter. Hermione had left promptly, giving the excuse of cooking lunch before Madeline harmed herself, although she had no intention to do so. Instead, Hermione climbed the latter to the little tree house in the Malfoy yard, planning on having a good heart to heart with herself.  
  
What she didn't plan on, however, was that Draco would be stretched out across the floor, levitating a magazine a foot from his face. She made a slight sound of disgust and toyed with the idea of leaving before he noticed her... but Draco was too quick for that.  
  
"Hey," he said, tossing his book to the side and gracefully pulling himself into a sitting position. Deciding she would go with her original plan, Hermione said nothing back and climbed into the room, settling herself in the corner. She pulled the pile of envelopes from her bag, and began the task of addressing them. Of course, she would forgo calligraphy, making the ordeal take considerably less time. Draco lifted an eyebrow. "Hello?" Again, Hermione remained silent. "Herm-I-o-ne.... hello? Anyone home?"  
  
"I'm not speaking to you," she finally admitted, and Draco laughed.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because."  
  
"Right... is this about the bush thing?" Hermione looked up from her first card, which was still addressee-less, and scowled. "I'll take that as a yes. Oh, come on... you pushed me first."  
  
"You called me a mouse," she retorted, and Draco shrugged as if to say 'guilty'.  
  
"I thought you weren't speaking to me?"  
  
"Well, you're just so insufferable! Sometimes I just want to strangle you," Hermione threatened, teeth clenched, but Draco simply shook his head.  
  
"You don't mean that," he told her. "You could never stay mad at little ol' me." Hermione glared.  
  
"Watch me." With that, she turned back to her envelope and began addressing it to Harry. It was decided then that if they didn't come, she didn't want anyone there. Although the stack contained at least a dozen invitations... only two would be used. Well, perhaps three. Pansy Parkinson had been on the inside scoop throughout their Hogwarts years... pretending to be Draco's girlfriend for cover-up purposes. It would have looked odd for such a wealthy and desirable Slytherin male to remain single for his entire time at school. Hermione trusted Pansy and knew she'd never do anything, or let Draco do anything, untrustworthy.  
  
"Aw... what can I do to make you feel better?" Draco asked, but Hermione ignored him, even as he scooted up beside her and rested his chin on her shoulder. He gave a pouty frown. "Come on, Mina."  
  
"Don't even attempt to guilt me into this. It's your fault... not mine," she said. "I have every right in the world to be upset with you, and I plan on taking advantage of each and every one." Draco pouted for a moment, but it did nothing to better Hermione's mood. With a sigh, he opted for a less submissive approach.  
  
"Fine," he agreed, lips in a tight and deadpan line, then turned away and pulled back his magazine. Although Draco's back was facing her, he was still very close. She knew what he was doing; the psychology may have worked in third or forth year, but she was much too intelligent to fall for it now. Besides, she knew what was going to happen. He'd start groveling again as soon as he realized his attempts were futile. In the mean time, Hermione planned to take advantage of his silence. As expected, in under two minutes, Draco turned back around, wearing that pout again. She blatantly ignored him. "Oh, is that how it is?" Again, she said nothing. "Alright then, you asked for it."  
  
Before Hermione could even fathom what Draco had planned, he jumped on her, knocking over the pile of letters in his haste, and tickled her with all he was worth. Hermione, although she didn't seem to be, was always a very ticklish person, especially in the lower abdomen. From much research done over the years, Draco knew of this Achilles heel, and went directly for it. Hermione was curled on her back in seconds, face red as she shouted pleas through her laughter.  
  
"Draco! Stop it! Oh, I'm gonna KILL you!" she gasped, but it made Draco smirk.  
  
"Not the way to go about it, I'm afraid," he informed, before putting in a bit more effort and making his fiancée squeal.  
  
"Draco, please!" When he was good and ready, or so he told himself, Draco let her off the hook, but didn't move from his hover above her. Hermione took a few moments to compose herself, getting through some last minute giggles and slowing her breathing. When she was rested again, he gave a dashing smile.  
  
"So, do you forgive me?" Hermione gave a short laugh.  
  
"Forgive you, why should I forgive you? I should be angrier."  
  
"Oh, come on, don't be such a sour puss. You're reminding me of McGonagall right now, and as this," he said reaching for one of the unaddressed envelopes, "is an invitation to our wedding, that is a scary visualization." Hermione stuck out her tongue.  
  
"Don't stick it out unless you're going to use it," Draco reminded primly, impersonating his father. Lucius always had a way of forcing habits out of them... by linking everything to kissing. Ever since they'd become old enough to know what he was talking about, Lucius had recited that line each time they'd stick their tongues out at one another. This always did keep them from fighting, however, as they were first entirely disgusted, and would then co-despise the older Malfoy together. This time, however, Hermione smirked.  
  
"Who said I wasn't going to?" Draco lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"Is that an invitation?" She rolled her eyes innocently.  
  
"Well," Hermione said, "It might have been... if I weren't supposed to not speak to you." At this, Draco smirked.  
  
"You don't need to speak for that, Mina. Think about it." At that, Hermione pushed him playfully, a smile dancing on her face. "Alright, alright... tell you what. If you forgive me, I'll take Hazel for the rest of our sentence, with absolutely no help from you whatsoever." Hermione laughed out loud.  
  
"As if! You couldn't last one night Draco... we experimented, remember?" He grinned.  
  
"Yes, but now I've gotten over my diaper phobia." Hermione lifted an eyebrow and Draco gave a quiet chuckle. "Alright, I'm on my way at least. Come on, please?" Hermione studied his face for a moment, then shook her head.  
  
"No."  
  
"No?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because you're not telling me something. This is just a petty, commonplace argument. You know I'll forgive you anyway in under an hour. Why would you make such a top heavy deal?" Draco smiled.  
  
"I always knew you were too smart for me. Mum's taking her." Hermione looked confused.  
  
"What do you mean, 'Mum's taking her'? Taking her where?"  
  
"Nowhere... but they'll be there for the next two weeks. She's relieving us of our duties early, because she wants us to enjoy our last few days of... I want to say freedom, but..." She slapped him again, in the arm. "That's why I hesitated."  
  
"So you were trying to shortchange me?" Hermione accused, eyes narrowed, and Draco laughed.  
  
"I knew you'd forgive me anyway... like you said. I was trying to be... I don't know, 'sweet' I suppose... although I despise that word when it becomes a characteristic adjective to describe a person." At this, Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed him, this time harder than she had on the street. Pretending to be beaten, Draco rolled off and flopped onto the floor. "Well, then." Hermione shook her head and sat up, pulling the envelopes back into a pile. Draco, after a moment, resumed his seat beside her. "What are you doing?"  
  
"What does it look like I'm doing?"  
  
"But I thought Mum was addressing."  
  
"Not the people I'm inviting, just the ten thousand people we've never met, but are in some way related to." Draco looked amused.  
  
"Oh. And... who will I actually know?"  
  
"Pansy... and Ginny if they agree to come. I'm inviting Harry and Ron, as I said... but I'm beginning to think you're right. They'd have written or something..."  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa... hold the phone. Did you just admit that I might possibly be right?"  
  
"Don't let it go to your head," Hermione said, although she knew it was in vain. Draco, smirking, knew as well.  
  
"Already there, love... already there."  
  
~*~  
  
A/N I thought this chapter was a little more interesting than the previous. I know you wouldn't want to send out invites only two weeks ahead of time, But Draco said they were late... and it's not like the owls take as long as postmen. Oh yes, and the links... let me try that again...  
  
Dress:   
  
Sleeves:   
  
PRF: As always, I have forgone the I love you, update soons. I like them, but... :oD  
  
Brokenflower: I know! Little sister is the apple of his eye ;o) Aw....  
  
Hermione Sakke: Yeah... Medieval is my FAV time period. It's about nowadays in this fic... ya know. Well, if you think about it, first year was technically 1998, I guess... then I said it was the summer after graduation, but now it's about November... so it's about 2005. Future is scary OoooOOOooo :oD  
  
Naoko Ten'ou: I agree about the Lucius thing. I usually either make him nice, or I kill him. Narcissa is always nice... the helpless victim of years of abuse, in most cases. Like, killed him in Flames, she was nice... killed him in MPES, she was nice... made him go crazy and turn into a child in LGG, she was nice, although slightly depressed, And he's nice here... and then none of the chapters in FLYT (except this one) even mention him :oD  
  
Croft: Ohhhh I get it now :oD Well, it DOES sort of involve that, as we need to know what Harry and Ron are going to think and everything, but basically, yeah, I see what you're saying. And I put the links up there again... I think they'll show this time :oD That is a really pretty dress... I'd look terrible in it, of course, but... :oD  
  
Crystalline Lily: I thought it was pretty obvious he had something up his sleeve (and still does, mind you) considering he was like, alright... you caught me... and didn't even bother to deny it for a while. :oD And Drakey would NEVER do such a thing. ;o) or at least, not in MY fic...  
  
October Potter-Snape: Me too, I love that dress :oD  
  
Swimcutie: Yep, Medieval is my FAV era... :oD  
  
Joebob1379: You very well might have, if you only found the first chapter familiar. It was posted under FLYT which is my collection of short stories (reviewed that is, you might have reviewed) And I will indeed add you to the mailing list, no problem :oD  
  
Lovestruckbyanelf: Yes, they are real dresses... and they can be found at the links above :oD  
  
Kate13: I do that sometimes... just read someone's Harry/Ginny fic or something... I appreciate it :oD  
  
Ezmerelda: My stepmom and dad got married less than five years ago, and I KNOW what hideous concoctions there are in some of those books... makes you wonder why anyone would even DESIGN a dress like that... you know? Yick  
  
Cotton Candy3: Yep, I did... put the links up, I mean. They should show up now :oD 


	5. First Date

Disclaimer: I don't feel like doing these anymore. You guys all know I don't own this stuff.  
  
Previously on PS:  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"What does it look like I'm doing?"  
  
"But I thought Mum was addressing."  
  
"Not the people I'm inviting, just the ten thousand people we've never met, but are in some way related to." Draco looked amused.  
  
"Oh. And... who will I actually know?"  
  
"Pansy... and Ginny if they agree to come. I'm inviting Harry and Ron, as I said... but I'm beginning to think you're right. They'd have written or something..."  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa... hold the phone. Did you just admit that I might possibly be right?"  
  
"Don't let it go to your head," Hermione said, although she knew it was in vain. Draco, smirking, knew as well.  
  
"Already there, love... already there."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
CHAPTER FIVE: First Date  
  
The two weeks prior to the wedding went by much more quickly than Hermione would have liked. When her last weekend as a single woman approached her, she found herself doubting many things. First of all, there was the overpowering feeling of dread toward the actual wedding. Despite her protests, Madeline and Narcissa had left her out of the loop for a majority of the proceedings, and, although they assured everything was going according to plan, Hermione couldn't help but be nervous. She had convinced herself that something would go wrong... she'd misplace her dress... the flowers (which were fake) would wilt (which was impossible), the caterer or photographer would be late... or never show up...  
  
Along the same lines, Hermione was beginning to doubt herself in the entire department of marriage. It had already been decided that once the wedding was over, she and her groom would retire to their new home for a night, and then leave for their so called 'honeymoon' the next morning. Once they returned home, Draco and Hermione would be pretty much on her own. A few months ago, her biggest fear had been child rearing... but now that she'd gotten a taste, she realized it was worse than she ever could have imagined. This got Hermione to wondering if her judgment had been good in other areas. Perhaps Draco had been right... this was going to be much harder than they'd bargained for. Hermione was feeling slightly unprepared.  
  
As if wedding jitters and marital nightmares weren't enough, Hermione still hadn't heard from Harry and Ron. She had ended up sending Ginny an invitation as well, but the only she'd received back was from Pansy. It seemed her so-called friends couldn't understand something so important as keeping her safe.  
  
With a sigh, Hermione shook her head. It wasn't fair to blame them. She'd lied to them for seven years... and they'd trusted her with their lives on various occasions. This was big... a tremendous lie. She'd shielded her identity... lied about her birthright... and conveniently forgotten to mention the exact reasoning behind why she refused to date anyone. Victor Krum had never been her boyfriend. She'd gone to the dance with him in forth year, and never spoken to him again. Yes, they'd shared a goodnight kiss... but it was merely a peck on the cheek. If that counted as cheating, then she was guilty, but otherwise, Hermione had remained entirely faithful to Draco... even when opportunity came knocking.  
  
Ron had definitely had his eye on her for quite some time. He had his share of girlfriends, but they never lasted more than a week... and always seemed to despise Hermione when their relationships ended. She wasn't stupid, but she played the part well. Ron was probably heart broken... she really shouldn't have expected him to understand.  
  
Hermione had never much been able to deal with problems alone, and shared all her fears with Draco. She had first made him promise not to laugh... but he broke it straight away, and left her to tears. This, of course, changed Draco's mood, and he'd quite understood and whispered soothing words to her while letting her cry in his arms.  
  
On Saturday, exactly one week before the Malfoy/Boyce wedding, Hermione found herself alone. Narcissa had finally convinced Lucius and Hunter that they needed to take Draco and get tuxes as soon as possible. Hermione had to agree that it was nearing the deadline... and the fact that that was one more thing that might not be finished was another factor in her toe-tap worthy nervousness. Draco, knowing she really would like to have twenty- four hour comforting, apologized profusely, although he knew she wanted him to go and get it over with, and promised he'd take her to dinner... the first real date-like situation they'd be in. Hermione had thought it unnecessary, but Draco had insisted, and you simply don't argue with a Malfoy.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Hermione sat in her bedroom that sunny Saturday, flipping though bridal magazines and asking the pictures what they'd suggest she do with her hair. Of course, she knew she would in the end have absolutely no say, but it was nice to have an opinion. It was just after she'd cracked open the fourth one with a sigh that a loud crack, somewhat like a gunshot, sounded right next to her ear and she screamed, falling off the bed as she jumped in alarm. With wide eyes, Hermione looked up to see Ginny Weasley perched on her bed with a smirk, waving innocently.  
  
"Bloody hell, Ginny! You scared me to death!" she exclaimed while she stood, and Ginny giggled.  
  
"Sorry, Mione." It was only then that Hermione realized the seriousness of Ginny's arrival. She squealed and lunged at the girl, trapping her in a hug.  
  
"Ginny! I can't believe you're here!" The red head laughed.  
  
"Well, why shouldn't I be? My best girlfriend is getting married; it's my job to throw you one killer bachelorette party. Now, where's the groom? I think I need to have a chat with him." Hermione laughed.  
  
"First of all, it's good to see you, Gin. I was beginning to feel unwanted. Secondly, a party is unnecessary, although I do believe Draco has one planed for Wednesday, and three... he's getting tuxes with our dads. Why didn't you reply to my invitation?"  
  
"Because Ron wouldn't let me use Pig. He's actually quite angry about this... but you shouldn't blame him, Mione. This is big. He'll get over it, though, I promise. Harry understands everything, but is undecided on whether to side with Ron or agree with me. I think he's leaning toward Ron, if only because he knows he'll overreact if he does otherwise. And, hog swallow about the party. We're going. Tonight." Hermione shook her head.  
  
"I can't tonight. I'm going on a date with Draco," she recalled, and Ginny lifted an eyebrow. Hermione gave a little smile. "We've never really been on one before... and I was feeling a bit depressed about you lot, so he wanted to cheer me up. I can't cancel, it'll make him think I don't appreciate it." Ginny, although a bit put out, nodded and bit her lip.  
  
"Alright, here's what you do. You haven't slept with him, right?" Hermione scrunched up her nose and shook her head, causing Ginny to laugh. "Alright, judging by that reaction I don't think that'll be a problem... so just come home early. Have dinner, and then say something like 'we better get back, or my dad'll kill me'. Then we'll have plenty of time." Hermione laughed and shook her head.  
  
"I'm not going to lie, Gin. I'll just tell him; he'll understand. The whole point of the date was to get me to stop thinking about you guys not answering, but now that you're here, that seems rather pointless. I still want to go, though... we can't have all night." Ginny nodded.  
  
"Fine, fine... whatever you want. You know him better than I do. Gosh, this is so weird..." Hermione smiled sadly.  
  
"I'm sure it is for you, but what about me? I have to marry Draco Malfoy... and other than that fact, he's been my absolute best friend for my entire life. That'd be like you marrying Ron... except without the blood connection." Ginny pretended to gag. "Exactly," Hermione agreed. At that, Ginny shook her head, and looked around. Hermione's room, although very simplistic, was still quite elegant and charming. High ceiling, immense walk-in closet, a huge bed, and dozens of knick-knacks.  
  
"Nice place you've got here, Hermione. I've always sort of wondered why we never came to your house... ever... I assumed it was something like Harry's problem, except not as severe... like, your parents were iffy about wizards, but, being offspring, you didn't count." Hermione laughed.  
  
"Did I forget to mention they ARE wizards?" Ginny tilted her head.  
  
"Really? Ron wouldn't let me read the letter, all he said was 'Hermione's marrying Malfoy! They've been betrothed since childhood!' and I haven't heard a word from him since. I kind of had to piece things together myself."  
  
"Well, my parents are wizards, Gin. I'm a pureblood... actually, a very influential pureblood. I'd say on equal ground to the Malfoys at the very least." Ginny raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I'm assuming Granger isn't your real name then?" Hermione shook her head.  
  
"Nope. I am Hermione Renee Boyce. Pleasure." Ginny's eyes widened.  
  
"B... Boyce? But... they disappeared... almost..."  
  
"Eighteen years ago?" Hermione provided with a smirk, and Ginny nodded numbly.  
  
"But the Boyce's have NEVER in the history of wizards had a female offspring!" Hermione smirked.  
  
"I know. My dad must have gotten some rotten genes," she said, with a slight laugh. "Anyway, that's why we had to keep it a secret. If everyone knew... I'd have suitors up to my eyeballs. Being so alike in power, the Malfoys were good friends of ours. Draco's mother and mine were pregnant at the same time... they bonded. We couldn't just disappear from them as well... so, we moved here... which I've heard is much less extravagant than our old home, and Draco lives just down the street. Evidently, my parents thought it fate that Narcissa birthed a son just months before my mother birthed a daughter, but for some reason, they didn't betroth us. I guess they just ASSUMED we'd fall in love or something... it wasn't until we were about five and we started making other friends that they started thinking... and they asked us. It was completely unfair. I don't exactly recall it, but they said something like 'Hermione... do you want to spend forever with Draco?' which made me, as a child, think they'd take away my best friend if I said no, so I agreed... and poof. That's what happened." Ginny's eyes were wide.  
  
"Oh... wow."  
  
"Yeah, I know. If I had a choice now, I wouldn't marry him. I love him, of course, but like a brother... this is just so weird. I'd rather we stay single forever and continue to live where we are... but then he'd be too much like his brother... living at home, waiting on Narcissa hand and foot. I'm sure she loves it though," Hermione said, giggling, but Ginny looked confused.  
  
"Draco has a brother?" Hermione nodded.  
  
"He's twenty three... went to a school in America. He has a sister too... oh, you have to see her, she's the cutest little thing. Five months old just yesterday. Come on," Hermione said and took Ginny's hand, pulling her toward the door of her room.  
  
"What? Wait... me? Malfoy Manor? Won't I be spliced at the door or something?" Hermione laughed.  
  
"Gin, Gin, Gin... Draco isn't how he acted, his father doesn't hate muggles or what he called 'lower wizards'... I mean, come on... they betrothed their son to the light side princess. How bad can they be?"  
  
"Alright, Mione... if you say so."  
  
"Don't worry. Narcissa's the only one there... all the men are with Draco. It'll be fun."  
  
~*~  
  
"Cissa!" Hermione called as she entered the house, and Ginny flinched. A reply came from the kitchen, and the girls immediately started there. Ginny walked as if tramping through a minefield.  
  
"Good news, love," Narcissa said as she sent a scouring spell at the dishes in the sink. "Erild, the florist, had a cancellation. He should be able to be there early, which is good for us, as it will be a much less stressful morning." Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"Cissa, you never told me he wouldn't be on time!" Narcissa turned to her daughter-in-law and bit her lip.  
  
"Oh... right... I didn't want to worry you, love. Oh! Who's your friend?" At this, Ginny's amused smile dropped and her eyes grew wide. Hermione sighed.  
  
"This is Ginny Weasley, Cissa. Ginny, this is Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mum." Ginny lifted a hand and gave a nervous wave.  
  
"Hi." Narcissa gave a gallant smile.  
  
"Ginny, dear, so nice to finally meet you. How is your family?" Ginny sighed softly.  
  
"All right... Ron's a bit off, but..." Narcissa frowned.  
  
"Yes... I've heard." This comment was followed by an awkward silence, accompanied by sad looks to Hermione, courtesy of her best friend and mother-in-law.  
  
"Cissa, where's Hazy?" Narcissa shook herself slightly and replaced her smile.  
  
"She's napping now, love... but you can wake her, if you like. If she doesn't get up soon, she won't sleep tonight," she predicted, and turned back to her pan, which was now in need of a rinse.  
  
"Come on, Gin," Hermione prodded, taking Ginny's wrist and pulling her toward the staircase.  
  
"Do you know where you're going?" she asked, and Hermione laughed.  
  
"Of course. That's the drawing room... Uncle Lucius' office... swimming room, entertainment room, music room..." she listed, pointing to each door she passed. "The bedrooms are down this way... that's Lucifer's, Draco's brother, Draco's room, Guest room." Hermione turned another corner. "Then this is Cissa and Uncle Lucius' room... followed by... shh..." The girls stopped in front of an un-coincidently hazel colored door, which bore a silver plaque, proclaiming the room beyond to belong to one Hazel. Ginny did as she was asked, keeping her lips tightly closed, and Hermione opened the door. Contrary to maternal belief, Hazel was in no way unconscious.  
  
Hermione grinned and pulled Ginny inside, creeping up to the crib. Hazel was lying on her back in bed, watching the magical mobile that spun each time she kicked at a certain bar of her crib. Hazel had discovered this months ago, and had originally started sucking it... but soon found that kicking worked much better.  
  
"Hello," Hermione cooed in a sing-song voice, alerting Hazel to the fact that others had entered the room. She squealed and reached out, which caused Hermione to laugh in return. "Ginny, this is Hazel, the newest of the Malfoy clan." She explained and lifted the baby onto her chest. Hazel, as she was fond of doing, rested her head into the crook of Hermione's neck and watched Ginny with innocent eyes. Smiling, Ginny gave a playful wave.  
  
"Aren't you a cutie? And look at all that hair." Hermione laughed at this comment, as it had coincidently been a running joke throughout both the Boyce and Malfoy homes. Hazel, although small, had already acquired a good four inches of thick blonde hair. "Of course, you had to be a blonde."  
  
"Of course," Hermione agreed. "Want to hold her?" At this, Ginny's smile disappeared and she shook her head.  
  
"No... I'm alright. You go ahead." Hermione laughed  
  
"Oh, come on, Gin, she won't bite. You have a turn, I hold her practically everyday," she insisted, and hoisted the baby into Ginny's arms before the girl could protest again. Ginny was quite tense, but held the baby with care.  
  
"This feels so wrong... I keep getting this fear that Malfoy's going to burst through that door and curse me to death for even touching a member of his family," Ginny shared, but held Hazel as if she felt sorry for her, close to her chest. Hermione sighed and shook her head.  
  
"You know, that's what I hate most about this arrangement. It's not that I had to lie, it's not that I could never date... or that I changed my identity... What I hate is what Draco had to do. Everyone is afraid of him... but he's really nothing like that. I swear to you, Gin. I've known Draco my entire life... he's a month and a half older than me, and we've been together since before we could move. The Malfoy you know is absolutely nothing like the Draco I'm going to marry. You have to meet him whenever they get home, Gin... I'll show you."  
  
"I believe you, Mione... I do. It's just so hard to forget all that, you know? If I'd known all along it was an act..." she sighed. "But I understand." Hermione, without a thought, leapt forward and trapped both Ginny and Hazel in a hug.  
  
"Thank you, Gin... that's what I needed to hear."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Hermione and Ginny, after a rather lengthy play session with Hazel, retired to Hermione's room for some traditional, pre-wedding girl chat. They spent hours planning Ginny's wedding, surprisingly, as Hermione knew she couldn't change anything now. Ginny had laughed at the idea, considering she had no one who even remotely close to proposing to her, but gave up and agreed. Hermione had a field day. She'd picked out everything down to Ginny's shoes, and then charmed things around the room to dress her.  
  
"If that dress weren't a drape, it'd be perfect for you, Gin."  
  
"Can I take it off now?" she whined, and Hermione laughed before sending a charm toward her friend.  
  
"Aw, I was enjoying that," said another voice, which made Ginny spin around in alarm, but Hermione just shook her head.  
  
"Hi Draco," she said without even bothering to look up from her magazine. Ginny looked entirely confused, as Draco was nowhere to be seen. She gave Hermione a puzzled look, but her question soon answered itself, as a blonde head appeared above the windowsill. Ginny was slightly taken aback; Draco was smiling... something she'd always thought him anatomically incapable of doing, and his hair fell naturally over his face. Hermione looked up a moment later, when she finished her article, and seemed entirely unfazed. "Please, please tell me you're finished." The already large smile on Draco's face grew.  
  
"Of course, aren't I always punctual? AND we got a dress for Hazel. Evidently, Lucifer knew EXACTLY what Mum wanted. Of course, he was right, but that's not the point." Hermione sighed.  
  
"Sometimes I worry about your brother. That's just not... normal." Draco laughed out loud.  
  
"Since when has Lucifer EVER been normal?" he agreed, then turned his head slightly to see Ginny, who was standing with an entirely shocked look upon her face. Evidently, seeing Hermione and Draco conversing like equals coupled with the shock of seeing him climb through her window was a bit much for her to fathom. "Hello, Ginny," he greeted, smirking slightly, and she snapped out of whatever funk she was in.  
  
"Erm... hey."  
  
"Did you want something, Draco?" Hermione asked, and Draco turned toward her, feigning hurt.  
  
"Since when do I need a reason?" he teased and she shrugged, turning back to her magazine.  
  
"Just wondering if you had one."  
  
"Actually," he said and smiled at Ginny, "I came to pick you up, but it seems my services are unneeded." Hermione looked confused.  
  
"But it's only four o'clock..." He shrugged.  
  
"Yep. Later, then, ladies," Draco said, nodding toward each of them, and then started back down the trellis.  
  
"Wait, Draco!" Hermione called, scrambling up and leaning out the window, but Draco ignored her and jumped the last few feet down, then started toward the street. Hermione gave a frustrated sign. "Excuse me a minute, Gin." Ginny numbly nodded as she watched Hermione rush to the door and then down the stairs.  
  
~*~  
  
"Draco!" Hermione called when she caught up to him. Either he'd been expecting her to chase after, or was simply walking abnormally slow, as she caught him before he made it to the next block. When Draco heard Hermione, he spun around, with a smirk on his face.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Wha...er..." Hermione stuttered, realizing she had no idea what she should say. Draco laughed and lifted his eyebrows expectantly. After another frustrated sigh, Hermione managed a sentence. "Are we still on for tonight?" Draco smiled and shook his head.  
  
"Why would we be? If Ginny's here, I'm not about to take you away. Go have some girl time," he suggested, brushing her chin with the backs of his fingers. Hermione gave a slight smile.  
  
"You're not angry?" Draco furrowed his eyebrows, but kept his smile.  
  
"Of course not. Maybe a little disappointed, but that's okay. Have fun, I'll see you tomorrow," he said before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on her lips. Hermione stood stock still as he spun and started away.  
  
"You're not supposed to do that!" she called after him once she regained herself, and Draco turned, but continued walking backward.  
  
"You didn't stop me."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Do you guys hate this story? Is it boring? There isn't much conflict, except that Ron is being an arse... ::sigh:: I'm sorry. I expected it to turn out better. At least it shouldn't take that long.  
  
The last chapter was called pigs and mice because she had pigs in a blanket (two buns on her head) and he called her a mouse because of it. Oh...  
  
I'm trying again. Make sure you put the www. Before it and take out the spaces  
  
Dress: Lindsay fleming . com /cara . htm # Lindsay fleming  
  
Sleeves: Lindsay fleming . com / arran . htm # Lindsay fleming  
  
That's all, then 


	6. Flying High

Previously on PS:  
  
"Are we still on for tonight?" Draco smiled and shook his head.  
  
"Why would we be? If Ginny's here, I'm not about to take you away. Go have some girl time," he suggested, brushing her chin with the backs of his fingers. Hermione gave a slight smile.  
  
"You're not angry?" Draco furrowed his eyebrows, but kept his smile.  
  
"Of course not. Maybe a little disappointed, but that's okay. Have fun, I'll see you tomorrow," he said before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on her lips. Hermione stood stock still as he spun and started away.  
  
"You're not supposed to do that!" she called after him once she regained herself, and Draco turned, but continued walking backward.  
  
"You didn't stop me."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
CHAPTER SIX: Flying High  
  
Hermione returned to Ginny with a half smile. She was really quite excited about what her friend had planned... but for some reason, she also felt disappointed. She'd been dreaming all day about this date with her fiancé, and now... it wasn't happening. Deciding the best plan of action was to share these feelings with Ginny, the girls immediately began talking.  
  
"Oh, Mione... you're much too innocent to be getting married," Ginny said, shaking her head and laughing. Hermione simply cocked an eyebrow. "Well," she continued, "There are two possible reasons you could have to be feeling this way. One, you think Draco is disappointed, although he says other wise, and two, you wanted to go out with him... because you LIKE him. And I don't mean platonically." Hermione opened her mouth... but couldn't speak for a moment.  
  
"Do you really think so?" she wondered, sounding completely shocked, and Ginny nodded.  
  
"It wouldn't surprise me, really. He worships the ground you walk on... you can see it when he's talking to or just looking at you. That must be why he made such an effort never to speak anything directly to you at Hogwarts... he'd have given himself away in an instant." Hermione nodded slowly.  
  
"I think you're right. I've noticed it at times as well... but ever since I came back from your house last summer... it shows more. Maybe he just feels able to speak his mind now, without Hogwarts and you guys to worry about."  
  
"And... I think, subconsciously, you feel the same way." Hermione shook her head furiously.  
  
"I get a really funny feeling whenever I even think about doing anything remotely romantic with him... I mean... a date is different... we've gone to dinner with our parents, just never alone together."  
  
"You mean sex," Ginny provided nonchalantly, and Hermione laughed.  
  
"Yeah, something like that..."  
  
"Is it an unpleasant feeling?" Hermione paused a moment and Ginny internally laughed, assuming she was testing it out... thinking provocatively.  
  
"No... just... weird," the older girl finally admitted, and her friend nodded, as if in understanding.  
  
"You want him." Hermione choked on nothing.  
  
"What? No... preposterous." Ginny laughed.  
  
"Yes... exactly. I know, Hermione, believe me... and I saw that kiss outside. Guess you're not as brother/sisterly as you made yourselves out to be." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
"He's not supposed to do that... I made him promise... this is the second time, too." Ginny laughed.  
  
"You made him promise not to kiss you?" Hermione nodded. "Until when? The wedding?"  
  
"Until I see him naked," she admitted, and Ginny burst out laughing. "What?"  
  
"And you said you didn't want him... boy, Mione, are you confused." Hermione, who was sitting cross-legged on her bed, flopped backward.  
  
"I am, aren't I?" Ginny nodded.  
  
"Don't worry... everything will be clearer after you get married and have some... alone time. You'll realize what that funny feeling is... and what you feel for him. Promise."  
  
For the next few hours, Hermione and Ginny conversed back and forth... mostly about Draco. Hermione was still pretty convinced that she didn't want to be romantically involved with him... although she didn't exactly have a choice... and Ginny continued to try and persuade her otherwise. It wasn't until about seven that they decided it was time for dinner and left the Boyce domicile, heading out for some fun.  
  
First, Ginny insisted on someplace cheesy, unlike what Hermione was used to. As much as she played the part of a muggleborn, she was nothing like one. Like Ginny, and most other purebloods, she'd never tasted a fast food burger. The redhead, however, was a bit more bold, and forced her friend toward a Happy Burger.  
  
Now high on milkshakes and French fries, the girls headed off to, but of course, a strip show. Ginny howled and drooled at the bare-chested men, while Hermione blushed into her virgin screwdriver and tried to look away. She was having fun... it just seemed so wrong. Needless to say, this stop lasted for very little time.  
  
"Well," Ginny stated. "I've done all I can do. That's what a bachelorette party is, love. I'm at a loss... and it's barely dark."  
  
"There was this one woman who got pregnant on her bachelorette party," Hermione stated, and Ginny lifted an eyebrow. "Really. The dancer was Asian, and both she and her husband were white. Do you want me to have an Asian baby, Gin? Because I really don't think Draco would approve."  
  
"Well, I wouldn't expect you to sleep with the men... just ogle. And, if you were smart... you'd find the blonde dancer... just in case."  
  
"Ugh, honestly," Hermione groaned.  
  
"So, as I've said, I'm out of ideas. What next?" Hermione shrugged.  
  
"Let's do something muggle... the French fries were good."  
  
"Well, then... to the pier? We could always jump off if we don't find something better," Ginny suggested, and Hermione smirked.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Hermione trudged back into her home around one o'clock that morning, soaking wet, nauseous, and exhausted. She had offered to let Ginny spend the night, but the girl declined.  
  
"I have to go back to school... remember?" Dazedly, Hermione touched her hand to her forehead, as if steadying herself.  
  
"Bloody hell, Gin... I forgot all about that... is it Saturday or Sunday?" she wondered out loud and Ginny laughed. She had no idea why Hermione acted so drunk... she'd only had one real drink.  
  
"Sunday now, which means I've got all day to sleep this off. I'm coming to the wedding though, Dumbledore's permission. Kiss, kiss," she stated, and disappeared with a pop. Hermione stumbled toward her door, blurry eyed and bed ready.  
  
After the long walk to her room, complete with various bruising from dark tumbles, Hermione fell right into bed, without the slightest thought to her sopping clothes. Sleep came quickly, and Hermione cuddled into her pillow, welcoming it.  
  
"Why do you smell like fish?" asked a voice, mere inches from her ear, startling Hermione beyond reason. Her eyes shot open and, after a shrill screech, she sighed.  
  
"Dammit, Draco, you scared the hell out of me!" she mumbled before turning over and facing away. Draco, who was lying beside her, chuckled.  
  
"Sorry. Are you going to answer me?" She moaned.  
  
"Jumped the pier. Go to sleep." Draco laughed again.  
  
"You did what?" Hermione pulled the pillow over her head.  
  
"Can't we talk tomorrow? Shut up..."  
  
"Technically, it is tomorrow..."  
  
"Draco, please... I know you enjoy annoying me... but I'm tired, I'm nauseous, and I think I'm drunk. Just shut up."  
  
"You don't even want to know why I'm here?" he asked, voice more amused than curious. Hermione gave a muffled scream into her mattress, then propped herself up.  
  
"Fine... get me an aspirin, and I'll talk to you," she compromised, and Draco grinned. He lifted his hips from the bed, fishing in his wand pocket. With a flick, Hermione's headache disappeared. She gasped slightly, then turned to him.  
  
"How did you do that?"  
  
"Experience. Have I never told you how drunken Zabini used to get? Once he figured out how to smuggle in stuff a little stronger than butter beer..."  
  
"Right... well, thanks. That helped, but I'm still not too chipper, so would you please just get on with whatever it was you were saying? Why are you here?"  
  
"I was going to wait up for you... but I fell asleep. You look like you had a wonderful time... jumping off the pier. How drunk are you?" Hermione moaned.  
  
"This is completely unfair. I could have seven butter beers and just feel woozy... but one fire whisky shot, and I can't see properly." Draco chuckled.  
  
"Well that is a bit of a step-up... Fishlips." Hermione made a disgusted sound and fell back into her pillow.  
  
"That was Ginny's idea. And we didn't jump... we borrowed bikes from these really cute French boys and rode them into the railing. We flew off the pier."  
  
"Wow... you must have been smashed." Hermione shook her head.  
  
"That was before the bar... after the milkshakes... and the strippers." She made a face. "I think I'm gonna throw up." Draco laughed.  
  
"Be my guest," he said, but sounded completely contented, folding arms behind his head, a large grin spread across his face. Hermione looked disgusted.  
  
"Does this please you, oh sober one?" Draco laughed.  
  
"I'm imagining you watching strippers. It's amusing." Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "But," he continued. "I hope you know that gives me rights. I wasn't going to... but if you did..."  
  
"Ugh, do whatever you want..." she said, turning toward the door and closing her eyes. "Just try not to impregnate anyone, would you?" Draco laughed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Forget it. Go to sleep now, or I'll make sure your first son is Asian."  
  
"I think that might be a good idea... the sleep. You're getting delusional."  
  
"If only you knew."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
"Mum, how does it look?" Hermione asked, trying her hardest not to move her lips. It was now Thursday, and time for the most unpleasant part of the marriage ceremony. The painting.  
  
"Oh, it's marvelous, love," answered Madeline, who was watching the scrawny old man with a French painter's cap apply tiny brush strokes to what must have been a very detailed portrait. Hermione sighed. At least her mother was pleased... that was the reasoning behind most of the things she did these days. Her mother's happiness. She could always go home and complain to Hunter. He'd gotten her and Draco out of a cast iron mold of their intertwined hands... but only with the promise that she would make one of her body, once they conceived their first offspring.  
  
"Can't we just leave him a picture and leave?" Madeline looked disapproving.  
  
"Shh, Mina. You're interrupting art." Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her gaze back to the window, which she had mercifully been positioned in front of. She stood in an elegant pose, wearing her wedding dress, chin pointed upward. Hermione hoped upon hope that it would be over soon... she'd been standing there for well onto three hours, and still... the man painted. With a sigh, she watched the boring landscape. Better than a wall, she assumed, but still not as well as could have hoped.  
  
But then, as she watched, three blondes strode into the picture.  
  
"Mum..." she mumbled, but Madeline didn't understand.  
  
"Don't worry dear, he's nearly half done."  
  
"No, Mum... Draco..." Madeline looked up and Hermione jutted her head toward the window. Her mother turned slightly to see, and was met with the cheery scene of Draco, Hazel, and Lucifer, all taking a morning stroll.  
  
"Oh, dear." Before her mother could make it to the window, however, Lucifer saw them.  
  
~*~  
  
"And then, Mum told the witch to sod off, and she..." Lucifer rambled, but suddenly, he stopped. Walking, talking... probably breathing. "Wow..."  
  
"What?" Draco asked, furrowing his eyebrows and turning toward the element that rendered his brother speechless.  
  
"Gah!" Lucifer intervened, "Don't look, she'd kill me," he stated, covering Draco's eyes.  
  
"What the devil are you on about?" Luckily, it only took a moment for Mrs. Granger to close the great brown drapes of the Malfoy Manor ballroom, and he could let go.  
  
"Hermione," Lucifer explained, and Draco looked confused. He tried his hardest not to turn around.  
  
"What? What about her?" Draco asked, sounding curious, then his eyebrows narrowed. "Was she naked?" Lucifer laughed.  
  
"No, you git. She was in the ballroom," he said, pointing to the now closed curtains, and Draco turned to see. "Fully clothed."  
  
"Then what was so wow about it?"  
  
"You know that thing we have to do on Saturday?" Lucifer started, continuing to walk and lifting Hazel a bit more onto his hip. Draco rolled his eyes and followed.  
  
"No, I've forgotten all about it," he replied sarcastically.  
  
"What do you think Hermione's going to wear?" Lucifer asked curiously, as if he really wondered, but Draco got the message.  
  
"Oh... right. She'd have killed me too."  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione sighed again. She had sacrificed her view of the Malfoy grounds, just so Draco wouldn't see her. It had been close. He'd turned, but her Mum had closed the drapes just in time. Now the room was lit only by the ceiling chandeliers, which were made for late night parties, and didn't do much for the mood.  
  
"Mum," Hermione said thought strained teeth, and her mother was getting a bit annoyed.  
  
"Oh, shush up before I have to body bind you."  
  
"But Mum, I need a..."  
  
"Mobulus Corpus," Madeline said, sounding exasperated, and shifted slightly in her chair. "I warned you love. We're almost done." Hermione, of course, was unable to articulate a response, so she set into thinking.  
  
Draco had almost seen her. That wasn't part of tradition... he wasn't supposed to. Lucifer had definitely seen, but that didn't much matter. Thinking of this, Hermione was reminded of the night before... when Draco returned from his bachelor party, in which he was escorted by Lucifer. Like Ginny, they'd assumed strippers were proper etiquette, but, unlike the girls, they'd gotten themselves piss arse drunk. Draco, in fact, had woken her just before dawn that morning by falling through her window. When she'd come to his aid, he began spouting Shakespearian lyrics, jumbled and combined from random plays.  
  
When she'd informed him that he wasn't making any sense, Draco returned to modern English, and wrote his own warped poetry. Hermione had shoved a sleeping draft into his mouth and levitated him into bed, then flipped off Lucifer, who was rolling around on her lawn, clutching his sides in laughter. Evidently, he could hold his liquor and sane mind a bit better than his little brother. Hermione had left Draco not three hours later, as she was due in the ballroom at eight AM. She'd left a simple note:  
  
Drakey,  
  
If you ever get that bloody hammered again, I'll tell your mother. Feel better, I'm off for more pre-wedding torture.  
  
Love,  
  
~H'mione  
  
and hadn't seen him since, save the view from the window.  
  
~*~  
  
As the minutes ticked, like hours, even Madeline was beginning to grow impatient. The painting, of course, was beautiful... but it was taking so long.  
  
"Are you nearly finished, Mousier?" she asked, and then man grinned. Madeline had long since stopped watching his hand motions, and honestly didn't know if he'd made even a mark since she'd frozen her daughter.  
  
"And," the man cackled, making a tiny mark with the brush. "Merveilleux." He stepped aside to allow Mrs. Granger to view the masterpiece, and she gasped.  
  
"Mousier, it's perfect. Alright, love, come see," Madeline called, beckoning her daughter, but Hermione remained still.  
  
"Madam," interrupted the painter, and Madeline looked up. He made a swishing motion with his hand, and she lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"Oh!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed before back handing a 'finite incantrum' at her daughter. "Hermione, come..." she started, eyes back on the painting, but a loud thump interrupted her. Instinctually, Madeline turned her head to the sound, only to see her daughter collapsed on the floor.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Draco literally flew into the outer wall of the Boyce house as he went for the trellis that night. In fact, it was only late afternoon... about four o'clock. Much earlier than usual.  
  
"Krikey," he mumbled to himself, pressing fingers to the now throbbing cut on his forehead. After a moment of self pity, he started up the trellis, like lightning. Before he made it to the top, however, a figure leaned out the window.  
  
"Draco? What are you doing? Are you drunk again?" Hermione called down and he stopped in his tracks.  
  
"What am *I* doing?" he called back, "What are YOU doing? Shouldn't you be... I don't know, sleeping?" Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.  
  
"At four in the afternoon? Alright," she accused, "How much did you have?"  
  
"I'm not drunk," he promised. "I heard about this morning. What happened?" Hermione sighed.  
  
"Alright, come up here before the whole town hears you...and try not to get too much blood on my flowers. They're white for a reason," she told him, before disappearing back into her room, and Draco climbed to the top. She was waiting with a wet cloth when he got there.  
  
"Hermione," he said, trying to stop her, but she went about dabbing as if there was nothing to discuss.  
  
"So, reasoning behind slamming yourself into my house?"  
  
"Ow..." he mumbled, taking the cloth from her hand. Hermione smiled sadly, ignoring his actions and continuing to inspect the little cut above his eye.  
  
"The photographer is going to kill me. He specifically said not to let anyone in the party get hurt... and I daresay I couldn't have picked someone of more importance."  
  
"Aw, stop fussing and go get back in bed." Hermione quirked an eyebrow.  
  
"How do you know I was in bed?"  
  
"You're wearing pajamas," he stated, and Hermione looked down.  
  
"So what?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips. "Maybe I didn't feel like getting dressed after wearing that dress for so damn long."  
  
"Bed covers upturned," Draco pointed out again, and she turned her nose up.  
  
"Maybe I didn't make my bed this morning." He snorted.  
  
"Yeah, right." Hermione didn't say a word, so he climbed through her window and pulled her toward the bed. After she was at least seated, Draco lost his amused smile. "What happened?" Hermione rolled her eyes and got into bed, pulling the covers over her face. Draco sat down. "Come on, tell me something."  
  
"There's nothing to tell."  
  
"That's not what Mum said." She sighed and folded the covers to her chin.  
  
"Well... Mum hired this scrawny old French guy to paint a portrait of me in my dress... it's sort of tradition... anyway... it was very boring, and I sort of kept telling them so... so Mum got a little annoyed. Then, I tried to ask for a glass of water and she immobilized me... and you wouldn't believe how hot it is in your ballroom with all the window closed and the candles lit... plus, I was wearing that dress and standing near the fireplace... well, somewhere along the line, I passed out... then, when they were done, Mum took off the spell and I just sort of collapsed. Dehydration is all. I'm fine, I don't know what her problem is, making me stay up here... if she knew I walked to the window, I bet she'd bring me a water pitcher." Draco sighed a bit.  
  
"That's it?" Hermione nodded. "Mum made it sound like you'd fallen off a building or something." She laughed.  
  
"Or ran into one. What exactly were you doing outside? If I was sleeping, I doubt I'd be now." He gave a lopsided smile.  
  
"Sorry. I was in a bit of a hurry to get here, I suppose. Forgot to stop walking."  
  
"Aw... were you worried?" Hermione asked, pouting, and Draco shrugged.  
  
"Maybe just a little. Is that why you left so early this morning?" Hermione smiled a bit.  
  
"Yes... Mum specified eight o'clock, but I was still late. Speaking of this morning, however, did you get over that hangover all right?" Draco laughed.  
  
"Oh yeah, I'm good. Was I really as much of an idiot as Lucifer says?"  
  
"More so, I'd imagine," she admitted and Draco sighed, leaning back on his hands. "Did you see?" Hermione asked, sounding almost worried, and Draco quirked an eyebrow at her.  
  
"See what?"  
  
"You walked past my window this morning..."  
  
"Oh," he recalled. "No, I didn't... but Lucifer did." Hermione sighed.  
  
"Well I don't much care. I'm thankfully not marrying him on Saturday." Draco smirked.  
  
"You like me better?" he questioned, and Hermione laughed out loud.  
  
"Well, I certainly hope so. I'm marrying you, remember? I'm supposed to like you better than anyone."  
  
"And do you?" Draco asked, straightening as he fed his own ego. Hermione paused a moment.  
  
"Hm... I dunno. I really liked Crookshanks."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Sorry it took so long... I wrote a chapter of FLYT, and they tend to take longer, as they tend to BE longer. The lost the found and the brokenhearted was thirty pages long. Lol. 


	7. Birthday Wishes

Previously on PS:  
  
. "Did you see?" Hermione asked, sounding almost worried.  
  
"Oh," he recalled. "No, I didn't... but Lucifer did." Hermione sighed.  
  
"Well I don't much care. I'm thankfully not marrying him on Saturday." Draco smirked.  
  
"You like me better?" he questioned, and Hermione laughed out loud.  
  
"Well, I certainly hope so. I'm marrying you, remember? I'm supposed to like you better than anyone."  
  
"And do you?" Draco asked, straightening as he fed his own ego. Hermione paused a moment.  
  
"Hm... I dunno. I really liked Crookshanks."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
CHAPTER SEVEN: Birthday Wishes  
  
Hermione sat at the dinner table with her parents, picking at her corned beef. It was Friday. She would be getting married tomorrow. Of course, she was a bundle of nerves. Mrs. Granger couldn't have been happier. She seemed always to be smiling, and sending happy glances at her daughter. Hermione would force a smile back, but then go right to feeling sick to her stomach.  
  
This meal was quieter than usual, as Hermione didn't feel able to talk about anything, and she was usually the source of most dinner conversation. It wasn't an uneventful meal, however, as nearly half way through the pot of cabbage, a familiar black owl landed in the windowsill. Hermione felt herself smile as she recognized him as Draco's. Madeline recognized him too.  
  
"Well, what are you waiting for, love? Answer it," she suggested, and Hermione grinned as she pushed back her chair and fled to the window. Her parents shared an unseen smile of relief. They had prayed for years that their daughter would take to the marriage as well as she promised to at five. This couldn't be going better, even if they'd charmed it.  
  
Hermione quickly untied the letter and fed the bird a bit of cracker, then returned to her seat at the table. Under the approving eyes of her parents, Hermione tore open the envelope and hurriedly pulled out its contents. She inhaled sharply and stuffed it back inside as a hot fire burned in her cheeks.  
  
"Well?" Hunter prodded. "What's he say, love?" Hermione laughed nervously.  
  
"Oh... it's nothing," she choked out quite unconvincingly. "May, may I be excused?" Madeline frowned and turned to her husband briefly.  
  
"Well, I suppose so, Mina... but you've barely eaten a thing."  
  
"I'm not feeling well, to be honest, mother. Nerves and whatnot." Madeline smiled softly and nodded, assuming Hermione would raid the kitchen later than night, and agreed. The youngest Granger (soon to be newest Malfoy) quickly stood from the table and raced out of the room and up the stairs. She closed the door to her room before sitting down and opening her letter once more. Inside the simple white envelope, was a glossy wizard picture... of her fiancé... in the buff. Hermione made a slight face and shook her head, flipping it over to read the back.  
  
'Kiss, kiss.  
  
Love,  
  
Draco'  
  
Hermione sighed and folded the picture in half so that the naked (and now silently screaming) Draco was able to sniff his own feet.  
  
"Only you, Draco..." she mumbled to herself and trudged to the bookcase across the room. She grazed the shelves, looking for the most boring book she could find. Her mother had a habit of stealing romances... but she wouldn't want to read a bicycle assembly manual. Mini Draco would be safe in there.  
  
"Well, that's not very appreciative, is it?" asked a voice from the window, and Hermione didn't even look up. She'd become as accustomed to randomly hearing Draco's voice as she had having people apparate into the room. Of course, there were exceptions... like when you were an inch from sleep... or when your best friend happens to appear directly in front of you.  
  
"You're such a pervert. What if my parents had seen, hm? How exactly would I have explained that?" Draco chuckled.  
  
"I doubt you'd have to EXPLAIN, Mione. It's pretty self-explanatory. And those were your rules, weren't they?" he pointed out, and Hermione sighed. She slid the manual back into the bookcase and got to her feet, coming toward the window. Draco was now sitting on the sill, his feet dangling over the other side. She gave a slightly frustrated sigh.  
  
"Will you please not do that? You know I don't like it," she asked, taking residence against the wall. Draco chuckled.  
  
"Don't do what?" he asked, swinging his feet and crossing arms over his chest.  
  
"Draco..." Hermione whined, but he did nothing to ease her worry.  
  
"Yes?" With a twitch of her eye, Hermione quickly placed a hand on his forehead so that her fingers fell over his eyes and her arm made a line over his head. Before Draco could fathom her intentions, she pulled, causing him to flip off the sill and onto the floor. As he tried to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him, Hermione settled herself atop him so that she sat lightly on his chest. "Oh..." Draco choked. "Don't do THAT..." Hermione mimicked him, but she was interrupted by her mother's call from the first floor.  
  
"Hermione, dear, what's all the racket?" asked Madeline as she began to climb the stairs. Hermione gave a little peep of terror before she hurriedly called, "Nothing, Mum!" Then rolled off her fiancé.  
  
"You have to go," she whispered harshly, getting to her feet and hurriedly helping Draco off the floor. He looked confused. This was a new installment.  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"Because, you're not supposed to be here... she's going to kill me... come on, go!" pleaded Hermione in a panic and Draco hurriedly obeyed, if for no other reason than that his ignorance was scaring him. He climbed back out the window and started down the trellis. A bright head of blonde hair disappeared just as Mrs. Granger pushed open Hermione's bedroom door.  
  
"Hermione..." Madeline spoke curiously, peering around the room. Hermione looked innocently up from her position on the bed and smiled at her mother.  
  
"Yes Mum?" She lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"What's going on?" Hermione attempted to look confused.  
  
"Nothing," she said, trying to sound convincing.  
  
"So I've heard... what was that noise, then?" Hermione looked down at her sheets.  
  
"I fell off the bed..." she falsely admitted. "I was jumping..." Madeline gave a knowing smile.  
  
"Trading nerves for excitement, are we?" Hermione smiled.  
  
"Something like that."  
  
"Alright, then... goodnight, love."  
  
"Night, Mum." As soon as Madeline had closed the door, Hermione heaved a heavy sigh and fell back onto her bed. A quiet 'psst' interrupted her relief basking, and Hermione cracked open an eye, unsurprised to see Draco with his elbows on the windowsill, waving stupidly. She rolled her eyes and forced herself to greet him once again. "Draco, really... you should go... what if she comes back?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, when I feel like it. Why does she care, anyway? I'm always over here."  
  
"Yeah... but you're not supposed to see me tonight," Hermione answered in a whisper, kneeling in front of the window, as to be eye level to him. Draco paused a moment.  
  
"I'm not?" She shook her head.  
  
"It's some wedding rule... Mum would go ballistic... Knowing her, she'd probably change the date or something drastic like that... evidently, it's super important." Draco listened with raised eyebrows.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Right... so please, just go home... you've gotten me all nervous now." Draco gave a crooked smile.  
  
"Alright, alright. Do I get a kiss goodbye?" he questioned suggestively, and Hermione crossed her arms.  
  
"No."  
  
"Aw, come on. I didn't send you that picture for nothing..."  
  
"As far as I'm concerned, you did." Draco sighed.  
  
"Fine," he agreed, then started back down the trellis. Hermione watched until he disappeared, then folded an arm over the sill and rested a cheek on it. "Oh," Draco cursed, just moments before appearing again. Hermione lifted her head.  
  
"What now?"  
  
"I almost forgot..." he said, fishing in his pocket. "The whole reason I came over in the first place." Hermione mocked a pout.  
  
"Aw... you mean it wasn't just to see me?" Draco smirked.  
  
"Not entirely... here," he said, producing a tiny package wrapped in yellow paper and tied with a silver ribbon. Hermione looked confused as she took the present, but Draco just grinned. "Happy birthday." Hermione nearly gasped. She'd almost forgotten about her own birthday, which was, of course, the next day. It was planned long ago that they would be married when they were both eighteen, and, as Draco was two months older, Hermione's birthday was the date. They evidently didn't want to waste any time. As the date drew closer, Hermione had found herself saddened over the fact that no one had remembered, but assumed a wedding was plenty of party, complete with a mound of gifts. She didn't need a birthday. They'd just skip this one.  
  
But Draco remembered.  
  
Hermione looked up from the little gift, which she now held nestled in her palms, to Draco, who was grinning like an idiot. She didn't know what to say... it was a great surprise, for sure. She nearly wanted to cry.  
  
"Go on then," Draco insisted. "Open it." Still without words, Hermione mutely turned her attention back to the tiny gift. She lightly tugged on the end of the ribbon and, as the string fell away, the paper magically jumped off the box and folded itself on the floor. Hermione found herself smiling. She'd probably have been more surprised if Draco had tried the muggle way.  
  
Paper set aside, Hermione lifted the lid of the white, square shaped box and gasped at the souvenir that was nestled inside. A tiny platinum ring, set with a marquee cut diamond. As Hermione placed a hand to her mouth, Draco began to explain.  
  
"It's an engagement ring," he said, although it was unneeded. "I realized you didn't have one... and that's just not right." Hermione barely heard him, as she was staring openmouthed at the box in her hand. When his girlfriend didn't respond to his elucidation, Draco reached through the window and plucked the ring from its little round holster. Hermione allowed her left hand, which covered her mouth, to fall into his waiting palm, and Draco smiled as he slipped the ring onto her finger. Hermione stared for a moment, then brought her shining eyes back to his face. Draco looked, frankly, embarrassed. "I know it's not what you were expecting, but..." Hermione smiled softly, but again said nothing. This caused Draco to become quite nervous, and he began to trip over his own words. "If you don't like it, it's Lucifer's fault, and you can pick out whatever you want... I just thought that you should have it before tomorrow... I mean, who gets married if they're not engaged? And..." He stopped and took a breath. "Sorry." Hermione laughed out loud and rose on her knees, wrapping her arms around him. Draco, although slightly surprised at her, reciprocated her actions. Hermione didn't speak until they pulled away.  
  
"It's wonderful," she assured, smiling at the pleasant tears she held back. Draco lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"What, exactly?" She laughed.  
  
"You..." she started, then gestured to her ring, "This... everything. Thank you." Again, a tint of blush rose in Draco's cheeks, creating a pink mask just below his eyes, which spread to the bridge of his nose. Hermione smiled at him and shook her head slowly. "I'm just surprised you remembered..." At this, Draco knitted his eyebrows.  
  
"Why wouldn't I remember? It's your birthday... it's happened on the same day every year for the past eighteen. Think I haven't noticed the pattern by now?" Hermione laughed and turned her eyes to the floor, smiling.  
  
"I know, it's just with the wedding and everything... I'd imagined we'd all just skip it this year," she admitted, and Draco laughed out loud.  
  
"What? Why on earth would you think that?" Hermione shrugged slightly.  
  
"No one else has said a word... but they're busy, I understand." Draco shook his head.  
  
"It's not quite your birthday yet, love. Wait a tick. Tomorrow... you'll see," Draco assured, then pushed his body from its resting place against the sill and took hold of the trellis. He started down without another word, and Hermione watched him for a moment before leaning out the window. He had only made it a few steps.  
  
"Draco, wait," Hermione called in whisper and Draco snapped his blonde head back toward her. Thinking better of calling back, he retraced his steps and came back to face her. He opened his mouth to ask her reason for calling, but Hermione had other plans for his lips. She initiated what was intentioned to be a chaste and simple kiss, but Draco found better use for their time. He took a good hold on her head, digging fingers into her hair as he cradled her ear against the skin between his thumb and forefinger, and Hermione took hold of his upper arms for what he assumed was keeping him steady. Draco, who was not going to waste of a perfectly good opportunity to show his stuff, took advantage of his situation and ravaged his bride, bruising her lips before going off course to kiss a bit along her jaw bone.  
  
Hermione seemed in a daze, allowing Draco to do anything he wished, and thoroughly enjoying it along the way. However brutal his lips touched her skin, Draco's hands remained courteous. The one in her hair remained there, and the other was placed well below her breasts, nearer to her hip. Although his thumb had a habit of circling, Draco had no intentions to take his hands any farther. It wouldn't make sense... Tomorrow was set-aside for that... and, of course, he didn't want to scare her away.  
  
Hermione was beginning to think that this wasn't such a good idea. She enjoyed Draco's not-so-gentle treatment, but it had her wondering what he thought of her. Did he like her to other women, or was she just Hermione? Had he assumed she wouldn't mind a little roughness... considering she could pin him to the ground faster than a cat could a mouse, or was he just playing off internal instinct... for himself? She allowed herself to enjoy his touch, which, once the initial shock wore off, became a little less painful... and, although it was pleasurable pain, Hermione was slightly relieved. In the end it was, of course, Hermione who pulled away first, cheeks rosy and breath ragged. She immediately trained her eyes on the floor, too embarrassed to look her snogger in the face. Draco, however, just smiled. He ran his thumb, which was still resting on her cheek as her head was pressed to his hand, over one reddened cheek, causing Hermione to look up.  
  
"I should go, then, hm?" he asked, and, although a frown crossed her lips, Hermione nodded. Draco leaned close to give her one more peck before whispering, "I love you," in her ear. He let his hands melt away from her and again grab the trellis, then aid him as he climbed down. This time, Hermione leaned out the window and silently watched him grow smaller and start away. He turned back as he made it to the sidewalk, basked in the light of a streetlight, and grinned. Hermione, possessed by something she didn't understand, blew him a kiss before disappearing into her room. Draco watched for a good minute or so after, then turned and fled down the street, eager for bed. He'd have a big day to look forward to.  
  
~  
  
Hermione, although she had stepped back, watched Draco until he raced out of sight. She then shuffled to her bed and lit the candle on the night table before seating herself. It took a good few moments before her heart stopped beating so fast against her ribcage, and she took deep breaths in an attempt to aid. When she felt able to consciously think, Hermione backed against the headboard and pulled her knees close. She splayed her hand over her lap, face up as to view her ring, and inspected it closely. Draco (or Lucifer, whomever had chosen it) had a very good eye for diamonds. It was beautiful... clear, bright, sparkling... and big. At least two carats. It felt a bit awkward to wear, but she assumed she'd have to get used to it... as she planned never to take it off. Except, of course, for the wedding ceremony, as was mandatory.  
  
It wasn't five minutes before the beautiful image that was Draco's ring, sparkling in the candlelight, was blurred to Hermione's eyes. She didn't bother to try and stop the tears from coming and laughed to herself as she felt them spill over her cheeks. He loved her. He'd said it, clearly. I love you. These words had never come forth so seriously from Draco's lips. A sarcastic "Love you too," when she'd insulted him, or "Take me now," when she'd done something not-so ladylike... but never a straight forward, serious "I love you." It brought forth the same warm feeling in her stomach that a tickle fight would... or if he pushed her down... That was how Draco showed affection... not in words, but in actions. And, speaking of actions, there was that kiss... definitely one for the memory books.  
  
Tears never ceasing, Hermione readied herself for bed and crawled below the covers, then embraced her pillow and sobbed into it. For hours, she sniveled, cries dying down only when she drifted into sleep.  
  
~*~  
  
"Hermione! I've called you twice! Get up!" shouted Madeline as she banged on Hermione's door. The brunette, who was nestled comfortably under a pile of covers, jumped. Pulling her head from below the pillow, Hermione glanced toward the clock. It was five AM. Much... much too early. With a loud moan, she fell back into the sheets and closed her eyes. It wasn't five minutes before her mother burst into the room, this time forgetting to knock.  
  
"Hermione Renee Boyce, get your lazy Gryffindor behind out of bed and into something other than pajamas right now! You cannot be late for your own wedding, I won't let you," she lectured, throwing the sheets off her daughter and tearing the pillows away. Hermione, who was now far from sleep, but at the same time far from ready to get up, snapped her eyes open. It was Saturday... her birthday Saturday. Her wedding Saturday. As quickly as it came, the panic ceased. It was five AM. The wedding didn't start until nine. There was plenty of time.  
  
"Mum... lemme sleep," she pleaded, curling into a fetal position and holding her head in her hands.  
  
"Hermione, get up!" Madeline demanded, rolling her over, and Hermione sighed.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why? Why she says.... WHY do I have to get up!? I'm just getting married... it's just the most important day of my life... it's just my chance at making my family proud. Why in the world would I want to get up?" Madeline mocked as she retreated to the closet in the corner and started looking through possible outfits. Hermione sat bolt upright.  
  
"What did you say?"  
  
"I said get up, you lazy lug!"  
  
"No..." Hermione corrected herself. "About making the family proud. Aren't you already proud of me?"  
  
"Oh..." Madeline mumbled, and bit her lip softly, turning to face her daughter. "Well, of course we are, love... but we, that is to say your father and I, have been waiting for this since the day you were born..." Hermione frowned.  
  
"What? To marry me off and ship me away? Or to use me as a connection between you and your precious friends? That's all this is to you, isn't it mother? It's all about bloodlines and breeding..." Madeline seemed to have given up all hope on clothing and was now concentrating on her daughter.  
  
"Hermione... no..." she said. "We love you... we just want to ensure your happiness... We've known the Malfoys for a long time... we knew they'd bring their son up right... I'll admit it was a perk to connect our families, but it was never solely about that," she promised and Hermione hung her head. After a pause, Madeline went back to sifting through clothes. "I thought you liked Draco..." Hermione looked up at her mother, who was now frowning and looking as if she'd been told of a relative death. She turned to her daughter with damp eyes, as if begging her to reassure that she'd made the right decision. Pleading for Hermione to agree that Draco was the perfect choice...  
  
"I do, Mum," she admitted, "I must have... misunderstood you. I'm sorry." Madeline smiled.  
  
"Are you sure? I swear to you, Hermione... I love you more than life itself... I would gladly die to keep you from harm... I..."  
  
"Mum, don't say that." Madeline grinned.  
  
"It's true, though..."  
  
"I don't care, I hate it when people say that," Hermione complained, if for no other reason than to avoid conversation, and curled back up on her mattress.  
  
"Don't you go back to sleep, missy. We've got to get you dressed... I knew I should have picked your clothes last night... here, what about this?" she asked, holding up a beige colored wool sweater and a pair of white Capri pants. Hermione cracked one eye and made a face, causing her mother to sigh and head back into the closet.  
  
"Why do I need real clothes, Mum? Have you decided you don' t like my dress after all?" Madeline chuckled.  
  
"Of course not. We have a lot to do before we put your dress on, love... hair, make up... plus we have to get everything set up...and that's only the beginning. I daresay you'd be a might bit uncomfortable in your dress all day..." she dragged on and Hermione slapped herself for lack of insight. "This?" Madeline asked, holding up a white tank top with matching, flare legged, jeans. Evidently... wedding... white... there was theme in her decorating. Hermione sat up and sighed, shaking her head. Her mother looked confused. "What's so bad about this one?"  
  
"Nothing... I can't. Not a good week for me to be wearing white," Hermione said suggestively, and Madeline was baffled for only a moment.  
  
"Oh!" she exclaimed in triumph, then repeated herself with a tone of displeasure. "Oh... I'm sorry, love. No worries... that can be fixed." Hermione lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"With what? A miracle?" Mrs. Granger laughed.  
  
"No, love, a spell. Didn't they teach you anything at Hogwarts? I told your father the American Institute of Magical Learning was the best thing to ever happen to me... but he insisted it just gave me an accent..." she mumbled as she fished around for her wand, then granted it's arrival with a smile. After a moment of triumphantly gazing at her most prized possession, she quickly flicked it at her daughter, sending a stream of pink sparkles in her direction. They sprinkled over Hermione like snow, then absorbed into her skin. Instantly, she felt the constant churning of menstruation cease and her muscles relax... minus the flow of blood with usually accompanied such a move.  
  
"Wow..."  
  
"Nice, isn't it? Only works for forty-eight hours... then you'll resume as if nothing had happened. Lifesaver, really."  
  
"You'll have to teach me that one..." Hermione said, amazed at her ability to stand without making a quick trip to the bathroom.  
  
"I would, but right now you'll want to get dressed," Madeline suggested, tossing her daughter the selected apparel. Hermione smiled as she retreated to her bathroom, but frowned as she shut the door behind her. When the curse of the blood, as quoted from Stephen King, had reigned upon her just two nights ago, it had almost been a relief. An excuse... For the last few weeks, apprehension for the wedding had been replaced by fear of the wedding night. She knew for sure that Draco would want to corroborate their marriage as any young couple should, and she didn't blame him... she was just scared. She'd saved herself for this... and now she wasn't sure she wanted it. Her period was an excuse. 'Sorry Draco, it's that time of the month... guess you'll have to wait until the honeymoon...'. He would most likely not speak to her for a good few hours after that admittance. Hermione sighed as she changed her clothes. No turning back now. 


	8. The Bell Tolls

Previously on PS:  
  
Hermione smiled as she retreated to her bathroom, but frowned as she shut the door behind her. When the curse of the blood, as quoted from Stephen King, had reigned upon her just two nights ago, it had almost been a relief. An excuse... For the last few weeks, apprehension for the wedding had been replaced by fear of the wedding night. She knew for sure that Draco would want to corroborate their marriage as any young couple should, and she didn't blame him... she was just scared. She'd saved herself for this... and now she wasn't sure she wanted it. Her period was an excuse. 'Sorry Draco, it's that time of the month... guess you'll have to wait until the honeymoon...'. He would most likely not speak to her for a good few hours after that admittance. Hermione sighed as she changed her clothes. No turning back now.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
CHAPTER EIGHT: The Bell Tolls  
  
Hermione sighed softly to herself as she picked the petals from an earth colored rose, charmed to look, feel, smell, and die just like a live one. She was dressed in the prim white outfit her mother had picked for her that very morning, and wedged between pews in the chapel. She'd been shoed from the room where Ginny, Narcissa, Hazel, and Madeline were dressing, as they claimed she was making them nervous. She wasn't to be dressed until absolutely necessary, as no disaster could befall her gown before show time. This left her with much time to spare and no men to bother, as they were all still stationed and dressing at Malfoy Manor, where the reception was to take place. Hermione assumed that, had Draco and the others even been on the other side of the church she wouldn't have gone to see them anyway. It was of course, customary for her father to visit as she readied and tell her how absolutely beautiful she looked, but it was his job to find her. Hermione feared her mother's wrath were she to look for her father and happen upon Draco.  
  
The church was decorated beautifully and Madeline had repeated Hunter's assurance of the reception hall coming along just fine. The women had spent nearly two hours simply hanging lace and lighting candles. When seven rolled around, the women, minus bride, had locked themselves in the dressing room and left Hermione to wander. They assured that she would have plenty of time and attention once they were finished. That seemed like hours ago.  
  
Now, Hermione was alone in the church, head curled over a book of hymns. She hummed softly to the music, and once or twice ventured a word or two of song. It was all in minimal amusement as she waited for some sort of news on the situation in the dressing room. However unimportant her singing may be, Hermione was so inthrawled with a particular hymn that she didn't hear the doors to the chapel open.  
  
"Hermione?" asked a curious voice and Hermione snapped her head up, stopping her singing.  
  
"Lucifer?" she wondered aloud, and was greeted by stomps as her almost- brother clotted down the aisle, wearing a dashing tux and polished shoes.  
  
"Sis? Where have you been? The whole family's gone mad looking for you!" he said after a sigh, coming to a halt in front of her pew. Then, findings aside, he lifted an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" Hermione ignored his second question.  
  
"Looking for me? Why? I've been here since they kicked me out," she told him and slipped the hymnbook back in it's holder before standing and stretching her legs a bit. "Cor, I'm exhausted. I feel like I've been crouching there for hours..."  
  
"You nearly have," Lucifer informed before grabbing her hand and pulling her back out the pew and toward the doors.  
  
"What? What time is it?"  
  
"Almost eight thirty... we've been looking for an hour."  
  
"What?" Hermione called in outrage. She was supposed to be getting married in half an hour, and she wasn't even dressed. Her hair was down and probably knotted... face bearing more oil than makeup. She no longer needed Lucifer's help or encouragement, and bolted toward the doors. He followed quite steadily, keeping up with long strides. As they burst through the doors, he announced his espial.  
  
"I found her!"  
  
"Oh thank heavens... Hermione! What were you thinking!" called Madeline as she bustled out of a small alcove near the dressing room and toward her daughter. The church was very small, and it was only seconds later that Narcissa entered from another hall, and Ginny from a near by bathroom. All three women looked both relieved and worried at the same time.  
  
"Hermione! I thought for sure you'd gone and gotten cold feet..." Ginny voiced, skirt hiked as she dashed down the hall. As the only woman in the wedding party, besides the bride and Hazel, of course, she wore a simple dress of brown velvet which tied in the front in a style like Hermione's, but with much less elegance... making her look more like a well dressed chambermaid than a maid of honor.  
  
"Where have you been, young lady?" Hermione's mother demanded, crossing her arms.  
  
"Mum, I..." she started, but was cut off.  
  
"Forget it, we don't have time... come on, now!" Mrs. Boyce said, taking hold of Hermione's arm and dragging her toward the dressing room where the stylist and makeup artist waited patiently, reading magazines... paid by the hour. Ginny shook her head and laughed softly to herself as she followed behind.  
  
"Lucifer, love, go find your father and Hunter, would you? I think Hermione might need a bit more enforcement on her side... you know Maddy..."  
  
"Yes Mum," he agreed, starting toward the door. Narcissa smiled after him and began to make her way toward the little room Hermione and her minions had entered, but gasped slightly and turned back.  
  
"Oh, and Lucifer?" Her son turned back just as he opened the door. "Let your brother out of the closet."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Draco waited patiently, seated on a towel, which rested on a bucket. His bride was missing and the only help he could be was to sit in a four by four room and hope she didn't feel the sudden urge to mop. He understood that he wasn't allowed to see her... and that this was much bigger a deal than he'd originally assumed... but Draco just couldn't understand the point of the closet. He could have hid in the men's toilets and been absolutely sure... now he was completely paranoid each time a set of footsteps made their way down the hall.  
  
And on top of all this, he was wracked with worry. Ginny had been absolutely sure that Hermione had run off to avoid the responsibilities of marriage, stated this way only so Draco would not feel guilty, but her methods hadn't worked. Draco felt immensely guilty... maybe the ring was too much... too final... he shouldn't have kissed her like that... it was much more intimate than any kiss they'd ever shared prior... and of course, those final three words. He could have kicked himself. What a way to scare away your fiancée than with a heartfelt 'I love you' just hours from your wedding? No matter what Ginny said, or how she twisted her words... it all came down to one fact. Hermione had left him at the altar. Because his only means of amusement was a ratty mop and the bucket beneath his tails, Draco laughed quietly at his own thoughts. He hadn't even seen the altar yet, much less have been waiting at it.  
  
Just as this chuckle died, two hurried sets of footprints stomped down his hall and a muffled voice called out. This caused Draco to straighten his posture and perk his ears, but alas, he couldn't hear a thing. Curious, and sure there was talking, the groom stood from his bucket top perch and pressed an ear to the wood of the door. This didn't help in the slightest... in fact, it seemed to make his hearing worse... but Draco simply pushed harder, putting his full weight against the door.  
  
Unexpectedly, the knob turned and the wood swung out from underneath him, leaving the soon-to-be-married Malfoy to fall unceremoniously to the floor. This was accompanied not a moment later with sharp laughter, and Draco looked up with narrowed eyes to see his brother hunched over in laughter. As the younger blonde stood, Lucifer dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach. Draco just scoffed.  
  
"Yes, yes..." he mumbled angrily, brushing the invisible dirt from his tux and smoothing out any noticeable wrinkles. He stopped suddenly, embarrassment forgotten, and wiped the sneer from his face. Lucifer was just lifting himself from the ground, breathing slightly hard. "Did you find her?" Draco asked, almost desperately, and his brother looked up.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Hermione, did you find her?" Lucifer took a moment to look idiotic; furrowing his brows as if he had no idea what Draco was on about.  
  
"Oh! Yeah... she was in the church."  
  
"What?" Draco asked, but didn't sound overly concerned. He was too busy being relieved that she hadn't run away to Scotland or something as preposterous.  
  
"I have no idea what she was doing... said something about her mother making her leave... she's getting ready now."  
  
"So she wasn't hiding?" Draco asked, smoothing his hair, which was already flawless, despite his slipup. Lucifer chuckled a bit and slapped his brother's shoulder.  
  
"I doubt it... the chapel wouldn't be the wisest place for that, would it? And she about ripped my arm off once I told her how late it was." Draco gave a slight sigh and followed Lucifer, who was heading back toward the exit doors.  
  
"So we're back on?"  
  
"Looks that way."  
  
"What about the guests?"  
  
"Outside," Lucifer explained, opening the heavy slabs and stepping into the sunlight. Draco followed, eyebrows slightly knotted. Instead of asking his brother why they'd banned the guests from the church, he took a look for himself. About a hundred each Malfoy and Boyce family members were crammed into a small church pavilion, chatting excitedly as if nothing wrong had happened. Draco gave his brother a look, but Lucifer shook his head and started away.  
  
"Draco!" he heard someone call, just before a thin girl in a fluttery pink dress squeezed between two of Hermione's rather stout aunts and hurried toward him. Draco grinned and opened his arms just in time to be pummeled. He chuckled and embraced his rose clad friend.  
  
"Pansy... how are you? It's been forever," he granted and Pansy laughed softly as she pulled back.  
  
"No, you know what's forever? How long I've been looking for you! Where were you hiding?" she asked with a quirk to her lips, painted with a pretty coral. Draco held back a laugh at her acute accuracy.  
  
"You'd be surprised. I couldn't just go gallivanting while they were looking for Hermione... I'm not supposed to see her, you know." As opposed to Draco's idea of Pansy's reaction, she frowned.  
  
"Looking for Hermione? What do you mean?" Draco smirked and shook his head.  
  
"Just some miscommunication. Everything's fine now... is Uncle Marty here?" he asked, more to change conversation, and pushed her gently back toward the crowds of people whom, once they noticed him, embraced Draco with hugs and congratulations.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
"Can't you do that any faster?" Madeline pushed, giving a nasty look to the stylist who was fixing Hermione's hair. To conserve time, they'd decided to do both make up and hair simultaneously... but this just caused clutter.  
  
"You can't rush art, Ma'am," said the young girl in a thick Scottish accent, extenuated by a pop of her bubble gum.  
  
"Mum," Hermione scolded, trying not to move too much. Madeline threw up her hands in exasperation and plopped onto the couch next to Ginny, who was sitting straight and prim, playing with the knee of her skirt as she stared at the floor with empty eyes. "Gin?" Hermione asked, furrowing her eyebrows slightly. The make up artist rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, but said nothing and continued in his work. Madeline glared.  
  
Ginny's head snapped up at Hermione's voice and she forced a small smile.  
  
"What's wrong?" her friend asked and Ginny sighed, shaking her head. "Gin?"  
  
"Nothing, Mione... I was just so sure Harry and Ron would be here..." At this, Hermione's lips fell into a deep frown and the makeup artist let out a grunt of frustration. Hermione ignored him and closed her eyes, tilting her head forward.  
  
"Look...H... whatever, bride... I'm going to need you to stop moving now. Are you comfortable with this face, or would you like to change positioning before I begin again?" huffed the man in front of her, and Hermione opened her eyes just long enough to glare at him before she heaved a heavy sigh and closed them again. With a sigh of his own, the artist again began to dust her face with color.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
As Madeline had significantly higher expectations than her daughter, Hermione didn't make an appearance in the chapel until ten AM. She was ready on time... but Madeline wasn't satisfied. She made the hair stylist try three different styles before deciding on the original one. Hermione, had she not been so nervous, would have told her mother off. Right now, her thoughts were elsewhere. A certain thirty feet elsewhere.  
  
"Hermione?" Narcissa asked from her side, and Hermione turned toward her, somewhat startled. "Ready, love?" the blonde woman asked, handing Hermione a large bouquet of flowers and tilting her head slightly. Hermione could tell she was ecstatic.  
  
"Honestly, Narcissa... no, I'm not."  
  
"Don't worry dear... it won't be all that bad, I promise," Narcissa assured just moments before a loud organ began to play a familiar tune. "Oh, that's my cue. You'll be fine," she said, kissed Hermione's cheek through the veil and walked the short distance to the doors, taking her husband's arm. Just ahead of them were Madeline and Lucifer, as Mr. Boyce would be accompanying his daughter.  
  
"Easy for you to say..." Hermione mumbled to herself. "You married for love." Unexpectedly, as she said these words, Hermione felt her stomach lurch. What she'd just uttered could very well be taken to mean that she didn't love Draco. By at least some extent, she knew this was entirely untrue. Given another option, she probably wouldn't have jumped directly into a marriage, but Hermione was assured, even by herself, that she would be reduced to nothing were something to happen to him. There was no doubt that Draco was extremely important to her... Hermione immediately regretted her words.  
  
"Princess?" asked Mr. Boyce, breaking Hermione once again from her thoughts. She smiled at her father, but her attention was averted then to Ginny, who waved before starting down the aisle. "You look beautiful, love," Hunter stated, and again, Hermione turned to him with a smile. "Excited?" She made a tiny moan.  
  
"I don't even know, Daddy... I'm so nervous..."  
  
"I know you've probably heard this a million times by now, but trust your dear old dad... it'll get better."  
  
"I hope so, Daddy," Hermione said, trying as best as she could to be optimistic. Just then, a great commotion was heard from the church as all those present stood to greet their main attraction. In moments, the wedding march began to play, and Hunter held out his arm. "That's us, I think." Hermione gave a weak smile and took a deep breath, before linking her arm in her fathers and allowing him to lead her toward the doors.  
  
For what seemed like hours, Hermione endured the torture of happy smiles, and warm nods as she marched down the center aisle, clutching her father's arm and keeping a magazine smile on her face. No matter what, Hermione would not look straight ahead. Had someone frozen time and asked her if Draco were standing at the altar, she honestly wouldn't have been able to give a positive answer. An assumption of yes, as her father seemed near tears. Instead of focusing on the task at hand, Hermione took in the scenery. It was nothing new... it had been planned and executed with her help that very morning... brown roses and petals lined the aisle, candles hung from everywhere imaginable, the ends of the pews decorated in bunches of calla lilies, and spritzes of lace and mesh along the rows and walls. It was beautiful... but old to her eyes.  
  
After what seemed like hours, her father came to a stop. Hermione was almost startled, she had grown nearly accustomed to marching down the hall, eyes everywhere but forward. She turned to her father with innocent eyes, only to see tiny teardrops forming in the corners of his own. She gave him a weak smile and he lifted her veil, placing a kiss on her cheek.  
  
"I love you, Mina," he whispered, then broke away to sit with her mother, who was already dabbing her eyes with a floral hanky. As Hunter sat down, she turned her head into his shoulder and commenced bawling, while he patted her back and nodded for Hermione to take the step forward needed to start the ceremony. Heart racing, Hermione turned back ahead and slowly brought her eyes from Draco's shiny shoes, to his equally polished hair. She lost herself for a moment as they made eye contact. He was beautiful.  
  
When they'd gone to school, she'd despised the way he wore his hair... slicked back like a cue ball... but today it accented his face... crowned him like a halo. He was grinning, obviously a bit more at ease than she was. Beside him was Lucifer, dressed in a similar tux, but with a smaller boutonnière, long hair plaited with black ribbon behind his head. To Draco's right was the space she was to occupy, and further down the line stood Ginny, looking rustic and excited. Next to her, and a surprise to Hermione, was Hazel, wearing what looked like a christening gown, and seated in a lacy white stroller.  
  
As the wedding march ended, Hermione focused her attention back on Draco, who was still smiling, and waiting patiently. A note of silence pierced the air, and Hermione swallowed her fear, stepping up to take her position. She handed her bouquet to Ginny, then turned back to her fiancé, soon to be husband. She suppressed a shudder, and spent nearly a moment pondering its cause.  
  
The priest, an elderly man with a beard to rival Dumbledore and large bottle-cap glasses that gave him the appearance of a large insect, motioned for the congregation to be seated. Hermione, as she hadn't seen the hand gesture, was startled by this, and gasped slightly, turning her head to the crowd in a paranoiac manor. When she calmed herself and the priest began to speak, Hermione turned her attention back to Draco, who was now lifting an eyebrow. She gave him a weak smile, and he reached for her hands, as commanded by the bible-clad man. As the squat little friar droned on about vows and the sacred union of matrimony, Hermione kept her eyes on the floor, as if in prayer. Draco squeezed her hand after a few moments, and Hermione lifted her head to again meet his eyes. He was still smiling, and spoke silently, mouthing his words.  
  
'You look beautiful,' he told her, and Hermione smiled a bit, but didn't respond. Draco grew a bit daring. From the moment he'd seen her in the entryway, he knew this wasn't a mistake. He might very well have wanted to marry her regardless of bloodlines, birthright, or family obligation. If they were just two teenagers who met at the beach... he'd have never let her go. 'I love you.' He tried, and Hermione felt a warmth course through her. He hadn't even said it out loud and still it had such an effect. Although she wasn't entirely sure of herself, Hermione figured she owed it to him. She spoke a silent 'I love you too', and watched with amusement as Draco's eyebrows shot up. She nearly laughed out loud. It didn't matter if she wasn't consciously aware of the exact truth to that statement, as she would be married in a half hour's time... to the man before her. Why shouldn't she love him? Or at least humor him...  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
"And... Let's see... by the... by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and..." The priest carried on, much to the relief of the wedding party and guests. They'd evidently gotten a seasoned minister, as he'd taken over an hour and a half to perform a simple ceremony, with provided vows and no special services. Just vows, rings, kiss... marriage. It couldn't possibly have taken any longer... but he paused. "And..." The old man adjusted his glasses, trying to read the tiny bible script. Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
"Wife," she whispered, much to the amusement of the man so very close to being her husband.  
  
"What?" barked the priest, looking up from the book and setting his bug eyes on the bride. She smiled kindly, as if he were a child.  
  
"Man and wife," she provided, and the already enormous eyes widened.  
  
"Right, then... I now pronounce you man and wife," he announced, and closed his bible, a smile of satisfaction on his face. Draco and Hermione, hand in hand, stared at him expectantly, but the little man was finished. He just grinned at them.  
  
"Oh, forget it," Draco said in exasparation and leaned forward, giving Hermione a solid peck on the lips. The congregation burst into applause and Draco released Hermione's left hand, pulling her back down the aisle. As per custom, the newlyweds were pelted with rice, then chased out the chapel toward the limo that awaited him. Hermione had never had so much fun in her life... it had yet to sink in that she was now officially Mrs. Hermione Malfoy. Mrs. Draco Malfoy. Hermione Boyce-Malfoy.  
  
Instead, she threw caution to the wind and giggled like mad as the little twangs touched her skin. Draco seemed in a hurry to get out of that mess, and rushed her to their transportation. Like a gentleman, he opened the door, allowing Hermione to slide in. She didn't stop laughing until he was safely seated beside her and the door had closed. Draco just watched in amusement. When her spasms died down and she simply stared at him with blissful eyes, Draco lifted one arm over the back of the seat, and brought the other hand to brush a bit of rice from her nose. Hermione laughed again, and covered her face. Draco smirked deviously, and she let her hands fall into her lap.  
  
"That was fun," Hermione admitted, "Although I was nervous as hell." Draco smiled.  
  
"I'll have to admit to both those conclusions myself. I'm rather glad it's over, to tell you the truth." Hermione bit her lip slightly and nodded, then heaved a heavy sigh.  
  
"Why aren't we moving?" Draco chuckled.  
  
"Because we have to wait until everyone else gets there... that way we can make a fashionable entrance."  
  
"Oh... right," Hermione said, but it was interrupted by a yawn. Smirking to himself, Draco pushed her shoulder gently, and Hermione gratefully accepted his suggestion, resting her head below his chin and closing her eyes. Draco replaced his arm on the back of the seat and slid down a bit, sighing.  
  
"Hermione?" he asked, disturbing the quiet.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"We're married." Hermione smiled, but didn't bother to respond. It was nearly five minutes later before she said anything.  
  
"Draco?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Why do you smell like furniture polish?"  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: I have just been informed by a person who shall remain nameless, that this story is 1) boring 2) melodramatic 3)overdone. I find this saddening, as I was not aware of this before. If you agree with Kr... I mean, this anonymous person, please let me know. I do not much care for pseudo- reviews... "Awesome! I love it!" when they don't mean a thing. I would like to know. I'm sorry if I've been boring you all this entire time... 


	9. Concrete Floors

Previously on PS:  
  
"Hermione?" he asked, disturbing the quiet.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"We're married."  
  
Hermione smiled, but didn't bother to respond. It was nearly five minutes later before she said anything.  
  
"Draco?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Why do you smell like furniture polish?"  
  
~*~  
  
CHAPTER NINE: Concrete Floors  
  
After what seemed like hours of both waiting and driving, the just married limo pulled up in front of Malfoy Manor. Draco, who was staring lazily out the window, heaved a heavy sigh.  
  
"Finally," he said, expecting Hermione to agree, but she remained silent. Lifting an eyebrow, Draco looked down. "Hermione?" he asked curiously, shaking her slightly. It was now entirely obvious that she was asleep, as the bride made no move whatsoever to acknowledge his calls. Draco sighed and opened his door, allowing her to fall lightly onto the seat, then, with a smirk, slammed the portal shut. As expected, Hermione jumped, looking around frantically. Calmly, as if no foul play had commenced, Draco walked around the back of the car to the other side and opened Hermione's door, extending his hand in a gentlemanly gesture. Hermione, looking baffled and sleepy, accepted his offer and allowed her new husband to pull her from their carriage. Draco chuckled slightly at the adorable look of confusion on her face. "Alright, love?" Assuming he hadn't noticed her slumber, Hermione made quick to smile and nodded her head softly before turning toward the vast manor. Draco, shaking his head softly, followed.  
  
~  
  
"Attention! Attention everybody!" called the man in charge of introductions, and a quiet swept over the ballroom, despite the number of occupants. "Introducing, for the very first time, Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy," he finished, extending an arm toward the doorway, where Draco and Hermione were standing, looking much like cornered cats. There was nearly a pause before applause burst out, followed by a swarm of people that engulfed the bride and groom. Laughing, they were torn apart without so much as a kiss and Hermione waved as her mother dragged her away. Draco suffered a small smile as he was clapped on the back by a queue of uncles, cousins, grandfathers, and people he doubted he had relation to. In amusing truth, had some random businessman come in just for cake, Draco doubted he would have been questioned.  
  
~  
  
"Oh, love, you looked absolutely beautiful," Mrs. Boyce praised, squeezing Hermione's arm so tightly she was afraid it might need amputation.  
  
"Thanks, Mum... that WAS what I was going for," she said, grinning despite the numb throb in her right elbow.  
  
"Hermione!" called another voice and, in seconds, she was encircled with two extremely persistent arms.  
  
"Pansy," she acknowledged, one handedly returning the hug. Evidently, Madeline meant business with her death grip. "Thank you so much for coming," Hermione said as she broke away, and Pansy shooed her question with a wave of a hand.  
  
"Well of course I did! I've only been waiting for this since I met you two," she countered, and Hermione chuckled.  
  
"Why? To get away from Draco for more than ten minutes a day?"  
  
Pansy laughed and shook her head.  
  
"Oh, I didn't mind much... I've gotten some deliciously jealous looks in my days as his barnacle. You do know how much I love jealous looks..." Again, the girls shared a laugh. "Well," Pansy continued, "I'd love to stay and chat but... being as I am officially off duty as an obsessive girlfriend who in reality has no interest whatsoever in her boyfriend... I see fresh meat and I must attain a closer look."  
  
Hermione lifted an eyebrow, but Pansy pointed over her shoulder. Being the curious sort that she was, Hermione turned to see her cousin Jed sitting miserably in the corner next to Draco's uncle Byron, who just happened to have an extensive collection of dead insects he just loved to talk about. She laughed.  
  
"His name is Jed, Pans... and you couldn't find a fresher cut," she informed, and Pansy nodded her thanks before making her way through the crowd of dancers to her target, then extending a hand. Hermione giggled as she watched Jed's jaw practically fall to the floor. In all honesty, he was not the prime of desirable men... but Hermione knew that wasn't what Pansy was looking for. True, Jed had a fairly good body... not much muscle, but enough to save any damsel in distress. He was thin, but had hands fit for someone three times his size and ears to match. Jed did have his good qualities, however; he owned the most dazzling blue eyes Hermione had ever seen. In all honesty, they were perfect for each other.  
  
Pansy and Hermione had spent a good part of their summers together during Hogwarts, and one of the Slytherin's favorite games had been to flip through the yearbook and pick out the most desirable men. Hermione had participated on the grounds that looking couldn't hurt as long as she didn't touch. It had become quite apparent as the years progressed that Pansy continuously lowered the bar on the appearance meter. It had been Hermione's theory that trailing someone as egotistical and haughty as Draco all the time had scared her away from good-looking men. Jed fell perfectly into her range.  
  
"Hermione, love, are you paying attention?" Madeline asked, shaking her daughter. Hermione turned away from Pansy and Jed, who were now dancing slowly to the fairytale worthy music emitting from the walls.  
  
"Of course, Mum," she answered, smiling in turn to each of the parade women she was being introduced to.  
  
It wasn't until dinner was served that Hermione saw Draco again. They were, of course, seated beside each other at the banquet table, the bride's court to Hermione's left, and the groomsmen to Draco's right. Dinner was served at four thirty, much to the delight of the hungry guests, who had survived on punch and appetizers. Hermione, who hadn't the pleasure of a large breakfast, had eaten half a dozen crackers with a paste on them she couldn't have named were it her own discovery. As quarter after rolled around, she quite promptly pulled away from her mother and seated herself at the party table, rubbing gingerly at her abused arm. Draco, however, arrived about ten minutes after the food began to arrive. To be hospitable, the guests were served first... a decision Hermione was now regretting. She was exhausted, hungry, and, so far, bored out of her mind. She'd been introduced and hugged by so many people she couldn't remember anyone's name. Truthfully, she felt relieved she still remembered which of those present she had married.  
  
"Hey," Draco whispered as he took his seat, and Hermione suffered him a small smile. "Having fun?" She laughed.  
  
"No... no, not really," she admitted, smiling. "Remind me again why we didn't elope?"  
  
"Aw, it can't be that bad..." Draco countered, shaking his head, but Hermione didn't seem to agree.  
  
"Please don't leave me alone with my mother again... I don't want to be an amputee."  
  
"A what?"  
  
"She honestly refused to let go of me... I may just have bruises on my arm tomorrow," she explained, and Draco laughed, then gave a playful pout.  
  
"Oh, Mina... she just doesn't want her little baby bird to fly the coup," he said and Hermione couldn't help but smile... he was impersonating her father, and doing a good job of it as well.  
  
"Well, she asked for it. If you think about it, it's more like she pushed me out of the nest and changed her mind at the last second, settling for dangling me by one leg," Hermione theorized, making her groom chuckle.  
  
"Or arm as it may be," he agreed in whisper, moving closer so she could hear him. Now just inches apart, they both smiled.  
  
Then, a high pitched dinging rang through the hall and Hermione looked up, half expecting to see McGonagall at the head table of the Great Hall, clinking her goblet for silence. In truth, it was Pansy, sitting next to Jed at a table not far from that of the court, tapping a knife lightly to her wine glass. Perfectly aware of the meaning behind this gesture, Hermione sent her friend a playful glare before turning back to Draco, who was smirking. As if in retaliation, she merely pecked his lips. Draco frowned and the guests booed. At the prospect of a kiss, they'd all given their attention to their host and hostess and were now quite disappointed. A chorus of clinks from nearly every table in the room burst out and Hermione rolled her eyes. Draco smirked.  
  
"Go on, love... give the people what they want."  
  
With a smirk of her own, Hermione touched his lips once more, in a kiss worthy of cheers from their audience. Now that their critics were satisfied, Hermione leaned back into her chair. She pointed toward Pansy, then dragged a finger across her neck in a petty threat of death. The blonde woman stuck out her tongue before turning to say something to Jed. Shaking her head, Hermione turned to Draco, who wore a very smug smirk as he watched her.  
  
"What?" she asked, but he merely stuck out his tongue.  
  
~  
  
After the guests had been served, which took a good quarter hour, dishes were given to those at the head table. As her meal was set out, Hermione was surprised to see that plates of crackers and the mystery paste she had so enjoyed were laid out like bread baskets. Restraining herself from throwing her face right into the food, she turned to her husband.  
  
"Draco?" she said, and he turned to her, lifting an eyebrow. "What is that?" Hermione pointed to the bowl of paste, and Draco smirked.  
  
"It's called Giolay," he informed, "It's a Malfoy thing... recipe passed down and whatnot. Did you have some?" Hermione gave a soft nod, then turned her eyes from the bowl to his face.  
  
"What's in it?" she asked, and his smirk widened.  
  
"Well... Like I said, it IS a secret family recipe..."  
  
Hermione pretended to look offended.  
  
"Have you forgotten already?" she teased, "I AM family... am I not?" Draco chuckled.  
  
"That you are... I apologize," he said, giving her a tiny peck in apology. "As I am not an avid chef, I do not know the exact composition...but, it's basically just caviar in a sauce that resembles mayonnaise." Hermione's playful smile dropped and she brought her hand to her mouth.  
  
"Ca...caviar? As in fish, caviar?" she asked in a slight panic and Draco laughed.  
  
"The one and only."  
  
"...I just ate 10,000 unborn tadpoles," Hermione said softly, looking down at her chicken with much less desire to eat it. Draco laughed.  
  
"Actually, tadpoles are frogs..." he corrected, but it didn't seem to ease his wife in the slightest. Again, he found amusement in her suffering. "Just think of it as tuna fish, love." Hermione turned to glare at him slightly.  
  
"Tuna fish isn't normally in utero, Draco..."  
  
~*~  
  
After dinner, many more clinking glasses, and a face full of cake each, Draco and Hermione stood entwined on the dance floor, moving slowly and savoring the time away from cheek-pinching, arse-popping relatives. The sun had set just minutes ago, and it was nearing on seven o'clock. Originally, Hermione had planned to stay until the last guest had gone home... but the way she was feeling this early in the evening suggested this wouldn't carry out. After getting up so early to complete so much work, then eating a meal big enough to change her dress size, she was completely exhausted. Hermione had already told Draco that she might not make it through the evening, and he had agreed that they'd had a big day. Mutually, nine o'clock was decided as their absolute latest departure point. Narcissa had been informed of this and had already instructed the chauffer.  
  
As per tradition, Draco and Hermione would leave together, climb back into their limo, and ride to their new home. After that, there would be no necessary agenda. It was assumed they'd want to explore for a while (both the house and... other things), but there would be no unpacking. Their possessions had yet to be moved, but would be during their honeymoon... which Hermione thought completely unnecessary, but agreed to for the love of Narcissa, who couldn't have been more excited were it her own.  
  
As they danced, Hermione held eyes closed and kept her face buried in Draco's chest. He, on the other hand, was watching the crowds. Pansy was practically sucking Jed's acne out through his mouth, Ginny was amusing herself with Hazel, Lucifer was getting punch (most likely for Narcissa) and both the Boyces and the Malfoys were dancing slowly around the room, chattering with other couples they passed, including each other. Of the rest of the guests, Draco found very few people he really knew. There was an aunt here, an uncle there... but, in all honesty, he doubted many of them had ever seen him before, much less met him.  
  
As the music slowly died and another tune started, Hermione smiled, squeezing her dance partner a bit closer.  
  
"I love this song," she whispered, more to herself than Draco, but he heard her and took more effort in dancing. Before, they'd stayed almost in one spot, swaying so slowly they hardly moved... it was partially to have time in each other's arms... but mostly to get away from everyone else. Hermione's confession of favor to the current musical selection had given Draco more reason to pay attention to the task at hand. He kept his movements slow and flowing, paying close attention to the placement of his feet, but, unlike previously, they wound through the other couples on the dance floor, covering ground much more quickly. At one point, she even gave a slight giggle at the sensation his lead was giving her. Draco smirked.  
  
They danced for a good five minutes this way, and Hermione's song ended, dying in a trickle of high-pitched bells. She laughed as they slowed again, face still pressed against his prim white shirt, and Draco rested his chin atop her head, grinning. At the very least, he could rest with the assurance that he'd given her a little fun that night. She seemed so sad and tired... as if the entire party was just a chore.  
  
As they fell back into their immensely slow swaying, Hermione sighed. Although she was simply dancing with her best friend, nothing could have felt more like paradise. True, there was that horde of Aunts waiting for her to break away...  
  
With the soft music and tiny steps to lull her into a stupor, Hermione found herself looking back on the more memorable moments of the past evening. There was, of course, her dances with Hunter, Lucifer, and Lucius, which she had quite frankly enjoyed. It was always humorous to see her father so worked up. Draco, too, had had his dances... even one with Ginny. In truth, Hermione was amazed at the way Ginny had accepted all the lies. It might have been the small fact that she'd known about the Boyces her entire life, and simply hadn't known Hermione was of them. Draco's behavior the last few days was enough to get even his greatest enemy to hug him, so it was no surprise that Ginny hadn't been angry with Draco... it was simply her lighthearted opinion of everything that made Hermione wonder.  
  
As she was away in a world of fantasy, Draco stopped with a jolt. Confused and broken from her memoir, Hermione looked up with a frown. Draco took a moment to recover from his slight bout of shock before he sighed and narrowed his eyes slightly, looking across the room.  
  
"Look who finally decided to show up," he said, voice betraying his inner displeasure. Hermione turned slightly and, upon seeing what Draco had seen, felt a wave of happiness crash into a wave of disappointment. She turned back to her husband and frowned, then pulled away, leaving him alone on the tiled floor. Without a glance back, she made her way toward the doors of the ballroom where, looking confused and worried, the new arrivals stood.  
  
"Harry, Ron," she said softly, stepping up to them. Simultaneously, her two friends turned toward her and their eyes widened.  
  
"Hermione..." Harry started, always the sensible one, and Hermione gave him a small smile.  
  
"You look... wow..." Ron added, most intelligently, to the conversation. At this, the bride couldn't help but grin.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her frown returning. "Please tell me it's because you wanted to come, and not to drag Ginny away." At this accusation, the two men shared a look.  
  
"No, Hermione..." Harry began, but, again, Ron interrupted.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... it's my fault we haven't talked in half a year... it's my fault we threw away the invitation and it's my fault we missed your entire wedding. And I'm sorry," he babbled, staring down at her with pleading blue eyes. Hermione felt her nose prickle and her face turn red as the tears grew closer and, all at once, she threw herself at her friends, hugging them as if they'd been lost for years as apposed to months.  
  
"I missed you both so much," Hermione confessed, pulling back to look up at them. "I was sure you hated me." At this, Harry chuckled.  
  
"Yes, Mione, we absolutely despise you. Always have," he assured sarcastically, and a watery grin spread to Hermione's face.  
  
"Come on, let's go sit down," she suggested, pulling them both toward an empty table. "I want to catch up." Once they were all seated, Hermione between the boys, she lent herself to initiate conversation. "What changed your mind?" she asked, "Why did you come?"  
  
"I've been all for it for months, it was Ron who had issues to overcome," Harry said, almost in a whisper, as if embarrassed to be ratting out his friend. Smiling, Hermione turned to Ron, who was now staring at the lacy tablecloth.  
  
"Well," Ron started hoarsely, then cleared his throat. "Harry made the brilliant prediction that you would hate us forever if we didn't come... and, I just..." he said, turning his eyes up to hers. "I don't want to loose you for that long." Where most would have smiled and assured Ron that they bared him no ill will, Hermione frowned.  
  
"So..." she started, "You didn't come because you accept this... you've come because you don't want me to be mad at you?" she insinuated, and Ron hesitated before nodding his head.  
  
"Actually," Harry butted in, causing Hermione to spin toward him. "There's more to it than that. We came because... well, we don't want you to marry Malfoy." Hermione's jaw fell open.  
  
"Well, it's a bit late for that now, isn't it?" she nearly yelled, glaring at Harry. He nodded.  
  
"Yeah... it would have been better if we came before, but listen... we've got a plan. It'll still work... all we have to do is skip the country... move to France or Italy... you can change your name back to Granger and marry Ron or something..."  
  
"Yeah," Ron agreed happily, enjoying the prospect of becoming Hermione's second husband. "That way, even if Malfoy found you, you'd already be married... so he couldn't do anything about it." Hermione was silent for a moment, eyes searching Ron's for some sign that he was either jesting, or had completely lost his mind.  
  
"What do you think YOU'RE doing NOW?" she pointed out, and Ron gave a slight nod.  
  
"But, you'll come with us. Malfoy couldn't make you come with him."  
  
"I can't believe you!" Hermione yelled, standing up so quickly the candle on the table toppled over. Luckily, the pool of wax extinguished it before it could cause any real damage. "Have you both gone mad?"  
  
"Hermione," Harry said, trying to sound sensible. "Why are you getting mad? It's not like you love him..."  
  
"How do you know that?" she screeched, ignoring the burn in her eyes as the tears mixed with eyeliner. Ron, however, went pale.  
  
"No... no, Harry, you promised... you said she didn't love him... you said she wouldn't sink that low..." he ranted, shaking his head. Harry grew fidgety.  
  
"I know, she doesn't... she wouldn't... right, Hermione? Tell Ron you don't love Malfoy," Harry said in such a way it sounded like a warning. Hermione took a good moment to stare at each of them, frowning and allowing black tears to roll down her cheeks.  
  
"I hope you're both proud of yourselves," she said, slightly choked up. "You've made this the absolute worst day of my life."  
  
Before either of her so-called friends could try to defend themselves, Hermione spun and went in search of her husband. She found him dancing with his cousin Montanya, but not a slow dance. Although the song was slow, they seemed just to be talking and swaying separately, nearly a foot of space between them. Hermione pushed her way through the crowds, coming up behind him and placing a hand on his back.  
  
"Draco," she said, getting his attention, and the blonde turned around, looking immediately alarmed at the distressed look about his wife.  
  
"Hermione... what happened, are you..." he began, ignoring Montanya completely and fussing over Hermione. She shook her head and cut him off.  
  
"I want to go home," she admitted, eyes trained on his shiny black shoes, and Draco nodded, frowning.  
  
"Alright... okay, whatever you want..." he said softly, as if speaking to a child. Normally, Hermione would have scolded him, but any sympathy she could get right now was good sympathy. "Let's just have Mum call the chauffeur, hm?" With no other apparent choice, Hermione nodded and allowed Draco to put an arm around her and lead her to wherever Narcissa was standing. As they started away, Hermione turned to view the table she had moments ago been seated at. Harry and Ron were gone, but the candle stood lit and upright.  
  
A/N: Dude, you guys... I'm not even joking... I got 100 reviews for chapter eight. No kidding. Probably more... and you know what they all said? "It's not boring, Melodramatic, or overdone. It's awesome!" Lol. I appreciated that guys, but it just got so repetitive... ;o) And, I think I offended someone with my comment about reviews I don't think are genuine... you know the "I love it! Update!" ones. I didn't mean that in a mean way... just that they don't help me at all. It's nice to hear such things, but I'd prefer reviews with suggestions for improvement. That is my sole purpose for doing fan fiction, anyway... not the fans, but the help. To improve.  
  
Someone (can't remember who at the moment) suggested that I not put a character's reaction to another character's speech in the same sentence, such as:  
  
"I love Ashton Kutcher, he's awesome." Jenna smiled.  
  
"Oh, me too," she said. "Have you seen just married?" Allen frowned and shook his head.  
  
"No, but I hear it's really good."  
  
I appreciate this critique, and have taken it into consideration. One thing I wanted to point out, however, is that your method for correcting the problem is grammatically incorrect. You said to make it:  
  
"I love Ashton Kutcher, he's awesome."  
  
Jenna smiled. "Oh, me too," she said. "Have you seen just married?"  
  
Allen frowned and shook his head. "No, but I hear it's really good."  
  
You should never... never never never never put unquoted words at the beginning of a paragraph which contains quotation, unless it's part of the sentence.  
  
Harry said, "I love Michael Jackson." Is fine, but this excerpt should be corrected as so:  
  
"I love Ashton Kutcher, he's awesome."  
  
Jenna smiled.  
  
"Oh, me too," she said. "have you seen just married?"  
  
Allen frowned and shook his head.  
  
"No, but I hear it's really good."  
  
Or you could change the wording, like:  
  
"I love Ashton Kutcher, he's awesome," Allen said and Jenna smiled. 


	10. Homecoming

Previously on PS:  
  
Hermione pushed her way through the crowds, coming up behind him and placing a hand on his back.  
  
"Draco," she said, getting his attention, and the blonde turned around, looking immediately alarmed at the distressed look about his wife.  
  
"Hermione... what happened, are you..." he began, ignoring Montanya completely and fussing over Hermione. She shook her head and cut him off.  
  
"I want to go home," she admitted, eyes trained on his shiny black shoes, and Draco nodded, frowning.  
  
"Alright... okay, whatever you want..." he said softly, as if speaking to a child. Normally, Hermione would have scolded him, but any sympathy she could get right now was good sympathy. "Let's just have Mum call the chauffeur, hm?" With no other apparent choice, Hermione nodded and allowed Draco to put an arm around her and lead her to wherever Narcissa was standing. As they started away, Hermione turned to view the table she had moments ago been seated at. Harry and Ron were gone, but the candle stood lit and upright.  
  
~*~  
  
CHAPTER TEN: Homecoming  
  
After a quite tough time convincing Narcissa that Hermione's tears were because she was so happy, Draco was able to free her from the party and lead his wife to their waiting car. The chauffer was already sitting prim and proper in the front seat, as if it was his one and only ambition to drive them home. Truth be told, had Harry and Ron not showed up, the new Malfoy's wouldn't have left for nearly another hour... and it could be assumed he would have looked exactly the same had they waited.  
  
Draco seemed genuinely concerned about Hermione, but she didn't look as if she wanted his condolence. Not once did she sob, but silent black tears continuously rolled down her trembling chin. She allowed Draco to lead her to their car, then open and shut her door, but, once he entered the other side, she paid him no attention. Hermione spent the entire hour and a half ride with her head pressed to the window and eyes shut tightly. She curled up as much as possible and ignored Draco, although she was sure he was watching her.  
  
Interestingly, Hermione did not fall asleep on the way to their new home, nor did she wait for Draco to open her door. The second the car stopped she jumped out and started toward the front door without a second thought. Draco, without tipping the driver as he would normally have, bounded up the cobblestone path after his wife, who was momentarily paused at the locked door with no way of entering. Draco fished in his pocket as he came upon her, and Hermione rancorously let him unlock the door. She stepped right into the darkness as the slab swung forward and, forgoing any thought of a romantic arrival and appreciation of their home, Draco reached around the wall to the right of the door, searching for a switch. Narcissa had specified the right side.  
  
When Draco found the toggle, he was met with three choices. Without thought, he simply clicked the first. Bright lights flickered on all around the circumference of the circular room, just where the ceiling met the wall. Hermione, who had stopped walking after only a few steps, let her eyes adjust to the light and momentarily forgot all her troubles as she looked up. Eyes wide with astonishment, Hermione gazed at the great dome ceiling, decorated with some sort of intricate painting. Unlike most ceilings of such elegance, it was not very high. In fact, the straight walls towered only two feet or so above her head, and the highest point of the dome was only at three.  
  
Although Hermione was engrossed with the convoluted masterpiece above them, Draco held more concern for her. He had glanced and gawked at the piece for a whole of two seconds before returning his attention to the elegantly dressed woman before him. He approached her with immense caution.  
  
"Hermione," Draco said with soft composure, reaching forward to place a hand on her arm. Hermione spun, all the night's events returning to her memory with just the sound of his voice and, for a moment, she felt angry with him for interrupting her meditation. The look on Draco's face, so different from the last she'd seen before her interlude with her best friends, made Hermione forget her petty illusion and focus on the more important matters for being angry with him. With a slight tremble of her chin, Hermione shook her head at the floor. Draco opened his mouth to say something no doubt along the lines of an apology, for what he didn't know, but Hermione saved him.  
  
"I'm going upstairs," she announced. "It's late, and I'm tired." Hermione turned again to ascend the grand white marble staircase hat resided immediately opposite the door. As she was already half way across the entry hall, it wouldn't take long to make this journey. Draco, however, seemed not ready to let her leave.  
  
"Hermione," he repeated, "wait..." Though she didn't wish to, something made Hermione turn back to him. And, when Draco pulled her into his arms, something made her let herself take comfort in his embrace. Perhaps it was pure habit that she would allow Draco to console her when something wasn't right inside... particularly if that something wrong had something to do with a certain pair of Gryffindor. There had been too many times to count on fingers and toes in which a Gryffindor and a Slytherin would meet at the top of the north (and highest) tower and Hermione would vent her frustrations. Then, they would share an embrace, and everything would seem perfectly better, if just for the time being. These were, of course, dangerous escapades, and were few and far between... but enough to make Draco Malfoy seem like a walking bucket of honey and warm milk. All he had to do was open his arms and the world became a bit brighter.  
  
This time, however, Draco's honey wasn't enough. He gave this hug for two primary reasons; one, to comfort Hermione and two, to prove to himself that she had simply had a spat with her friends, and only needed a little love to bring her true self back to the surface. Unfortunately, it seemed to do neither to the extent he wished. Hermione pulled away and suffered him a forced smile, then turned and ascended the stairs, leaving Draco alone at the bottom.  
  
He watched her until she disappeared from view, then debated going after her. Although he was overly concerned (it wasn't every day that a bride left her wedding in tears) Draco decided it best to give her some time alone and sat on the bottom most stair, placing his head in his hands. The honey hadn't worked.  
  
~*~  
  
When Draco finally did ascend the stairs, tie undone and hanging loosely, shirt untucked, and jacket missing, all was silent. There was a hallway at the top of the stairs, and each side was lined with four doors on each side. At the end of the hall was a set of grander slabs, decorated with gold trim. It didn't take an idiot to determine which was the master bedroom.  
  
With caution, Draco approached the doors. They had been left only slightly ajar, but through the crack he could see the silhouette of a bed, with a very noticeable lump in the center. He heaved a heavy sigh and slowly opened the off set door.  
  
Even from across the room, it was obvious that Hermione tensed as she heard her husband arrive. Even in her head, that didn't sound right. First off, Draco definitely did not feel like her husband, no matter how many white dresses she had to wear, and secondly, one does not fear their marriage partner... at least not on the wedding day. Draco was cautious of her painfully obvious discomfort, and slowly made his way toward the unoccupied side of the bed. At least sleeping alongside each other was nothing new to be installed.  
  
Draco sank onto the mattress, his eyes locked on Hermione, although she was facing away from him.  
  
"Hey," he said softly, but she ignored it, and pretended to be asleep. Draco sighed at this and stood back up, walking around the room as he down dressed himself. Once nothing remained of his attire but a very modest pair of shorts, he again tried to console Hermione. Draco climbed under the sheets and moved his body close, placing a hand gently on her upper arm. "Mina..."  
  
"Why do you keep calling me that; you've never called me that before," Hermione pointed out in a weak voice, but didn't otherwise move. Draco perked up a bit at hearing her speak, but her tone and question quickly dampened his spirits.  
  
"I... I guess because we're older now; we've gone through some pretty big changes... I thought it might... signify the changeover," he explained, but sounded as if the question took some thought. In truth, he had noticed himself picking up this habit, but had never analyzed it as she was asking him. His thoughts were complicated things to explain.  
  
"Well, maybe I don't want things to change. Maybe I didn't want any of this," she countered and Draco frowned. He opened his mouth to say anything that would make her feel better, but Hermione wasn't finished. "I've tried, Draco... I have. I've tried to accept this, accept everything... keep my head high... but you PEOPLE make it so HARD." For a moment, all thoughts of consolement left Draco completely. He narrowed his eyes at Hermione's back.  
  
"Us people?" he questioned, and Hermione turned onto her back, facing him. She was no longer crying, but looked decidedly unhappy nonetheless.  
  
"Yes, YOU people. You're a part of it too, Draco..." She shook her head and tilted her it away from him. "And at the same time, I'm conflicted. I doubt any of you even realize..."  
  
"Tell me," Draco prompted, and Hermione met his eyes once more. "Tell me what I've done, other than what I'm forced to do," he said, somewhat spitefully. "I'm sorry if I've ruined your entire being by marrying you, but, in case you haven't noticed, I didn't really have a choice." As Draco finished, he tilted his chin upward, extenuating his words. He fully expected Hermione to do as she had a thousand times before and fall to his feet, assuring he was wrong. This time, however, she didn't give in so easily.  
  
"That's exactly what you did," she said, making Draco's glare soften into a look of pure confusion.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Draco, we may not have had a choice, but at least I know what my feelings are toward this... you're like a sick little puppy... anything anyone says is automatically registered as true to your mind, and you accept it. Tell me, do you spite our parents at ALL for what they've put us through?"  
  
Draco paused. First of all, he was surprised at Hermione's sudden decision to speak her mind so harshly. For as long as he could remember, she'd never given him an ill word and meant it... she seemed to mean it tonight. Secondly, he honestly didn't know the answer to her question. He hadn't really thought about the 'what ifs'. He had to marry her, and he tried to make the best of it. End of story. Hermione sighed.  
  
"See? You don't know... and in that you've contributed to the cesspool of disregard that I've been standing in ever since I came home from Ron's last summer. You've become the epitome of what our parents want us to be, they've decided that what I want means nothing and planned out my entire life for me... and now, I don't even have Harry and Ron. I just feel so... alone. Trapped. I hate everything and there's nothing I can do about it."  
  
Draco let his mouth open and close freely for a moment as he tried to thing of something, anything, to defend himself with.  
  
"Hermione... I don't know what to say, I... I'm sorry," he finally settled on stuttering, and Hermione gave him the weakest of smiles.  
  
"See... I knew you didn't even realize. No one does. I know everyone only has the best intentions... I just can't help what I feel," she said, and all was silent for an extended moment. Draco just watched her as she stared teary-eyed at the ceiling, taking deep breaths. "I'm so sorry, Draco. This isn't fair for you; I know it isn't. I never planned to say anything... I don't know why I told you."  
  
"Hermione..." Draco said, sighing. "As cliché as it sounds, I'm glad you told me. You've brought up a very good point and I can understand why you have these inner demons. And, whether we asked for it or not, I am your husband and you are my wife. It is my role in this family to be here for you, and I sure as bloody hell plan on doing it. You shouldn't feel alone, Mynee, because you're not." Although Draco's speech was demanding and chauvinistic, it made Hermione smile. He kept his chin tilted up and his face set in determination, even as his wife shifted and cuddled into him. He placed an arm around and held her close, but otherwise remained the stone soldier he thought she needed.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered, then the room was basted again in a heavy silence. Draco did not want their night to end this way... there was quite a bit of talking he wanted to get through before her eyes grew too heavy to open.  
  
"Hermione," he said, flooding the silent room with his deep and curious voice. She shifted slightly and mumbled a response into his chest. "What happened with Harry and Ron?" At this question, Hermione pulled back from her nest, smiling in spite of how her friends had made her feel. Draco was beginning to make all the pain seem worthwhile.  
  
"They came to pick me up," she stated simply, and Draco lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"Pick you up?" he asked and Hermione nodded, smirking.  
  
"They wanted me to come with them to Italy and marry Ron."  
  
"What?" Draco exclaimed, taken off guard. "And what did you say?" Hermione shrugged a shoulder.  
  
"I asked if we could live in Venice."  
  
Draco laughed at this and the funny little smirk on her face. It was obvious she hadn't agreed... if she had, would she have come running to him?  
  
"And what were they planning on doing with me? Poison or lawn darts?"  
  
Hermione laughed at this display of wit, and Draco smiled as he felt her body quake against his. She was acting a bit more like herself.  
  
"I think we were just going to hope you didn't notice. Assume I went home with one of your drunk cousins," Hermione said, closing her eyes and settling herself back into the fetal arrangement she had favored just moments before. Again, Draco let the silence sit. It wasn't until she shifted, allowing a leg to brush his, that he started another conversation.  
  
"Hermione," he said again and, although she sighed, Hermione seemed attentive and ready to answer any question he might have. "Are we going to... I mean, erm... do you really want to just go to sleep?" Hermione chuckled in her head; it was adorable how nervous this made him. She stifled a false yawn and shifted herself so that she could rest her head against a pillow.  
  
"Well..." she began, eyes still closed. "What else would we do?"  
  
"Oh, er... nothing, I suppose," he said, but sounded quite disappointed. "Goodnight, then."  
  
"Mmhm..." Hermione agreed, playing the part of exhaustion much better than she felt it. Draco sighed, emitting the last of his hope, and made the best of his situation, settling down into his pillow and closing his eyes with a slight disenchantment. It wasn't a minute later that Hermione cracked open an eyelid. She nearly laughed; Draco looked as if he were sleeping (although she knew he wasn't) but held a look of frustration on his face; brows drawn and lips tilted downward. Hermione, however, decided it might be a good idea to rid him of this troublesome feeling. In one fluent motion, she pitched forward and pressed her lips to his. Draco became a bit more animated. He didn't waste any time trying to work out what was happening; it was an automatic reaction to simply kiss back.  
  
When Hermione showed no resistance, it gave him even more confidence. He pushed himself to hover over her, lips still working quickly. Hermione brought her hands, from where they rested on his sides, to slide over his chest and stop at his broad shoulders. This, in his eyes, gave Draco permission to touch her. Touch her like he'd wanted to touch her for as long as he could remember.  
  
He moved his hands to her waist, then inched them slowly upward. Hermione squirmed under his touch, tensing each time his fingers shifted. When they brushed the bottoms of her breasts, she broke from the kiss and gasped into his shoulder. Draco wasn't about to stop because she'd had a pleasant reaction, so he began kissing along her neck, still inching his fingers upward. Hermione, however, was trying to stop the room from spinning. They were moving very quickly and, in all honesty, it made her uncomfortable. Of course, sex with your best friend probably would be no matter the speed or situation. In this frame of mind, she let Draco do as he pleased and didn't stop him until she heard a loud crack from somewhere outside their room. She felt her heart pound even faster than it already was.  
  
"Draco," she said, but either he hadn't heard, or misunderstood, as Draco did not discontinue working his hands upward. Hermione suppressed a shudder as more and more of her skin was exposed to his fingertips. "Draco, stop," she said, a bit louder, and with more conviction. Draco pulled back immediately at that, withdrawing his hands and pushing himself up on his arms.  
  
"What is it?" he asked, out of breath. "Did I do something wrong?" Draco said this in a whisper, and Hermione (a little short of breath herself) shook her head.  
  
"Did you hear that?" she asked him, her tone as low as his had been. Draco looked, although also a tad relieved, confused.  
  
"Hear what?" he asked, but Hermione pressed a finger to her lips, asking him to be quiet. There was about five minutes of silence before she heard it again and, like the last time, her heart picked up speed. Hermione gave Draco a panicked look; he seemed to have heard it as well this time. "Stay here," he said, so quietly he barely spoke. Hermione, scared above all else, nodded her head in agreement and let Draco climb off her and out of bed. She covered herself in bedclothes as she watched his retreating back, and drew her knees to her chest in anticipation.  
  
Draco cautiously approached the door, cursing his material free house. Where's a cricket stick when you need one? Or a wand, for that matter... As quietly as possible, Draco turned the gold colored knob and gently pushed open his bedroom door to peer in the surprisingly well-lit hallway.  
  
Hermione heard him laugh from her nest in bed. She sat up a bit, trying to see whatever was so funny. After taking a step back into the room, Draco took hold of the other doorknob in his unoccupied hand and threw open both doors.  
  
"Mum?" Hermione called in surprise, wrapping her arms tightly around her scarcely clad figure. "Cissa?" Crouching in the doorway, looking quite a bit embarrassed, were in fact, Narcissa and Madeline. Draco looked quite a bit amused by this, but Hermione was just baffled. Madeline laughed nervously and waved a bit before standing again.  
  
"Erm... hello, love. Everything alright here?" she asked, backing slightly from the room. Narcissa stood as well, but seemed a bit ignorant to why her friend was so embarrassed. She was under the impression they'd just come to see how the children liked the house.  
  
"Yes..." Hermione answered, sharing a look with Draco, who simply smirked and shook his head. "Mum, what are you doing here?"  
  
"Oh! Well... I just came to er... dust the ceiling... yeah, that's it. The ceiling."  
  
"The ceiling?" Hermione asked skeptically, lifting an eyebrow at her mother.  
  
"Why yes of course!" Madeline exclaimed, but it was very unconvincing. "But it seems not to need it... so I'll be going now. Have a good night, kids, I'll see you in the morning," she finished, then was gone with a very familiar crack. Narcissa stared at the spot Madeline had left, then looked up at her son with a raised eyebrow. Draco smirked at her.  
  
"Goodnight, Mum," he said suggestively, asking her to leave. Narcissa twisted her lips into a plastic smile and nodded.  
  
"Sorry, love," she said, then was gone as quickly as her friend. Once the hall was again empty, Draco shook his head and closed the doors, then returned to bed. Hermione watched him cautiously as he circled round, a large smile plastered on his face, then crawled back in beside her.  
  
"What do you think they were doing?" she asked softly, as if their mothers might hear. Draco chuckled and resumed his hover over her. He placed a feather-light kiss on her jawbone before leaning to whisper in her ear.  
  
"I think they were listening in," he shared, and felt as Hermione inhaled sharply.  
  
"What?" she asked and Draco laughed, then pressed his lips to hers once more. Hermione, however, was resistant, she pushed him away. Draco looked severely disappointed.  
  
"What?" he asked softly, lips tilted into a frown.  
  
"Maybe we shouldn't, then..." she suggested, shakily through conflicted feelings. On one hand, she was afraid of being caught... plus she was somewhat relieved to have an excuse for not going back to what they'd been doing before interrupted. On the other hand, she wanted to make Draco happy... and that meant sex. They'd have to do it at some point, anyway... "What if they come back?" she explained, and Draco's frown became an amused smile.  
  
"We'll just have to give them something to spy on, then," he suggested, but she shook her head.  
  
"I'm serious... I don't want them or anyone... listening. I'm paranoid now," she said, sounding defeated, and turned her eyes away from him. Draco shook his head.  
  
"Then I'll just have to make you forget all about them," he said, but Hermione didn't look convinced. Draco sighed. "Look, if they come back and leave again empty handed... or minded... they'll be disappointed. And what happens when they're disappointed?" Hermione lifted an eyebrow, but Draco was quick to explain. "Remember when I came home with a 72 in transfiguration for Christmas and they made us spend a whole day locked in the drawing room so you could tutor me?" She smiled, and he continued. "Do you want them to lock us up until they DO get what they came to hear?"  
  
"Ah! Draco, ew!" Hermione exclaimed. "It's bad enough that they might be outside the door... I don't want to KNOW that they are."  
  
"So, let's not take a chance," Draco said, finalizing the conversation. Had Hermione wanted to retaliate, she would have needed the gift of speech through a French kiss.  
  
She didn't resist this time. In the end, Draco's logic and her distant but strong need to return to the land of bliss she had visited for a few seconds before reality had dawned on her had Hermione kissing back. The kiss grew just as heavy as their last, and Draco quickly made up for lost time, covering her breasts with his hands. Hermione tried to keep up, but Draco was wild and persistent, and she finally had no choice but to give up.  
  
"Draco..." she said, in that same urgent tone that sounded nothing like a lovelorn plea. Draco stopped and pulled away again, almost frustrated, and already breathing heavily. "I think maybe we're going a little too... fast?" For a moment, Draco looked absolutely terrified. He hadn't wanted to make her uncomfortable in the least. With a nervous little laugh, he tried to explain.  
  
"I'm just trying to catch up," he said huskily, eyes trailing down the length of her body. Hermione shifted self-consciously and crossed her arms over her chest. She had forgotten her attire for a moment; in fact, she was merely dressed in her underclothes.  
  
"Ginny filled my suitcase with socks," she explained, sounding a bit embarrassed. "I guess she was trying to be suggestive... it was either this or sleep in my dress." Draco chuckled to himself, glad to have covered up his complete lack of courtesy toward her.  
  
"I think there might be one more option," he said, moving suggestively closer. Hermione giggled and embraced him, letting her fingertips massage his shoulder blades while he nuzzled her neck.  
  
"Okay..." she agreed, "But go slow... please." Draco let a hot breath slowly onto her skin, and Hermione closed her eyes, basking in his gentle kisses.  
  
I was originally planning on making this chapter longer... and a bit more detailed here at the end, but I've changed my mind. You guys get the point. They screw. We knew it was going to happen. What's the point of prolonging my torture and making me write all that stuff? Use your evaporated imaginations. 


	11. Your Majesty, the Queen

Previously on PS:  
  
"Ginny filled my suitcase with socks," she explained, sounding a bit embarrassed. "I guess she was trying to be suggestive... it was either this or sleep in my dress." Draco chuckled to himself, glad to have covered up his complete lack of courtesy toward her.  
  
"I think there might be one more option," he said, moving suggestively closer. Hermione giggled and embraced him, letting her fingertips massage his shoulder blades while he nuzzled her neck.  
  
"Okay..." she agreed, "But go slow... please." Draco let a hot breath slowly onto her skin, and Hermione closed her eyes, basking in his gentle kisses.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
CHAPTER ELEVEN: Queen to E5  
  
Hermione squinted slightly as she stared at the ceiling. The masterpiece painted there was literally amazing... a collage of angels and fairies... magical beasts, horses, unicorns, children, flowers... even a small section completely dedicated to writing. A pen, paper, book, inkpot, quill... anything one might need, muggle or magic. Honestly, she was completely enthralled.  
  
As she let her eyes work out every brush stroke, she nibbled on a Chessman cookie. She found them adorable, and delicious. Ron and Harry had given gifts, even if they hadn't planned on letting her stay long enough to open them; their logic never failed the boundaries of insanity. Ron had been the giver of this massive bag of little buttery cookie squares, embossed with knights, kings, queens, bishops and rooks. No doubt trying to be funny. Hermione had thrown his card away and started in on the cookies immediately.  
  
Either Maddy and Cissa had come to deliver presents (possibly as an ulterior motive. That and, of course, ceiling dusting), or they had been flued over that morning, as the kitchen (which was located directly off the foyer) was piled high with gifts. Most were tiny packages, but that didn't mean anything. They were gifts of wizards; shrinking charms were common.  
  
Hermione finished off a knight and searched the bag for a queen. They were her favorite. True, they all tasted exactly the same... but the thought that she was privy to the queens was enough to keep her happy.  
  
Draco ascended the grand and beautiful black marble staircase at approximately nine o'clock. Evidently, their evening escapade hadn't tuckered him in the slightest. Hermione smiled at him once he noticed her. Draco stopped at the top of the stairs and lifted an eyebrow at his wife, who was lying with her back to the floor, knees knocking together and a cookie bag tucked under her arm.  
  
"What the bloody hell are you doing?" he asked, voice booming in the empty room. Draco winced; he hadn't expected that. Hermione, however, giggled.  
  
"I'm looking at the ceiling," she said, expertly keeping her voice at a dull roar. Draco began his descent.  
  
"Right..." he said, careful of volume. She smiled at him and popped another cookie into her mouth. "Are you wearing my clothes?" he asked a moment later, bare feet reaching the carpeted foyer floor. Hermione grinned and nodded.  
  
"Of course," she said, swallowing. "I can't very well go to the airport in my knickers, can I?" Draco smirked and took a seat beside her, looking down at the black boxers/white t-shirt combination he'd donned just for the purpose of coming downstairs. Hermione was wearing something similar, however her shirt was black, and she had opted for knee-length camouflage shorts. They were going all out muggle on their trip, and therefore had packed muggle clothes. Draco found himself glad he'd over packed, having gotten the wrong instructions. He was under the impression they were to leave at midnight as opposed to noon.  
  
"If it were a private jet, I wouldn't mind," he stated, lifting his eyebrows three times in succession. Hermione rolled her eyes and bit into another cookie.  
  
"And here I am thinking that sleeping with you would get all the dirty jokes out of your system," she said, shaking her head, and Draco laughed. He fell onto his back beside her and reached his hand into the bag. Hermione didn't spare the energy to glare at him.  
  
"That's what you thought," he said, then popped a bishop into his mouth. Hermione watched as he chewed delicately, taste-testing his morsel. She dug her hand into the sack again, rolling her eyes, and discarded three or four squares before finding another queen. "I could get used to these," Draco said, reaching over her and into the biscuit bag for a second time. "Where did you get them? I thought Mum said there wouldn't be any food here." Before Hermione could answer, Draco made a face and turned to her. "What if they were left by people before us? They could be twenty years old by now..." Hermione laughed.  
  
"They were a gift from Ron," she stated, and Draco's combination smile/look of disgust fell into a complete frown. "I think he was trying to be funny. Anyway, it makes a good breakfast." A few dozen thoughts were running through Draco's mind. The most prominent; why wasn't she upset? Maybe sexual healing was more powerful than he had originally thought...  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked, just to be safe, and Hermione turned to him, grinning as she chewed.  
  
"I'm fine, why?"  
  
Draco, not wanting to be truthful and have it backfire and upset her, pretended to look angry.  
  
"Well," he said, mock-haughtily. "I would think you would have waited for me before opening OUR presents. You didn't marry yourself, you know..." Hermione laughed.  
  
"You are such a dolt, Draco. They weren't even wrapped. You try telling me you wouldn't have started EATING without waiting for me first."  
  
"I could try, but I doubt you'd believe me," Draco agreed, pushing up onto his elbows. "Say..." he started. "We've got two hours... it won't take me that long to get ready. What say we break tradition and open something?" Hermione couldn't help but smile at him.  
  
"We're not supposed to..."  
  
"So? On every other present-bearing occasion, you get to open your presents ON that day. What makes this different? We should have done it last night, in my book... whose idea was it to put them ten feet away from us and say 'You can only look. Next week, you'll see what's inside.' I'll kill the bastard."  
  
"Don't swear," Hermione scolded, but she was already laughing. Draco shrugged at her and grinned.  
  
"Just proving my point, love. Come on, please?"  
  
"I don't know why you're so excited," Hermione said, sitting up and rolling up the bag. "It's not your birthday... we aren't going to get Quidditch gloves and Fillibuster fireworks. It'll be China, knives, nick nacks... if we're lucky, some furniture... nothing fun."  
  
"So? They're wrapped, that makes them fun," he said, ignoring the aspect of her rant which said 'no, we can't' and getting up to start for the kitchen. Hermione rolled her eyes before following him.  
  
"You're such a child, honestly..."  
  
"If so, then what you did last night was illegal," Draco shouted through the rips of paper. Hermione groaned and yet another crude sex joke.  
  
"Wait for me!"  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
After the first five or six presents, Hermione gave up. She was honestly not thrilled with most of the things they had received, but was not disappointed, as they had acquired a table and chairs, which was well and good enough to make up for ceramic cats and turtledoves.  
  
So, instead of boring herself, Hermione complained of a paper cut (to which Draco raised an eyebrow) and settled herself in a now full-size mahogany chair, upholstered with a deep red velvet, and opened her bag of cookies. She was more than enough amused by Draco's reaction to the less-than exciting presents; she needn't take part.  
  
"Bloody hell," Draco said, tossing the cover of a gift box over his head. "There are only two of us, why do these people assume we need so many plates?" he groaned upon viewing their third set of dishes. These, however, were practical... made of a bright orange glazed ceramic, upon which they might actually choose to eat, unlike the two sets of china before them. Hermione, however, looked at them strangely.  
  
"Draco," she said and he tiredly looked up at her. "Does it say what sort of plates those are? Look on the bottom..." Draco, without question, flipped over a plate and recited the label embossed on the bottom.  
  
"'Fiestaware, copyright 1962'. Hey! I bet they found these in the attic or something and decided they'd make a nice gift... what cheep gits!" he ranted, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "I've been they've even eaten off them before..." She laughed.  
  
"I hope not, for their sake," she said, nibbling on yet another cookie. Draco gave her an odd look.  
  
"Why? What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, curious, and Hermione gave him a devious smile.  
  
"Because..." she started. "Those plates are radioactive." Draco simply lifted an eyebrow.  
  
"Radio-what?"  
  
"Radioactive," Hermione said, then expanded. "They give off low level radiation..."  
  
"Wait," Draco interrupted. "Like CANCER radiation?" She nodded, and he dropped the serving plate he was holding back into the box, as if it had bitten him, managing only to pop a few of the packing bubbles.  
  
"Careful, love," she scolded. "And go find that box top. In fact, don't break anything or loose a nametag..."  
  
"You mean, we're going to keep these? In our HOUSE? Do you hate me THAT much?" he asked, knowing full well that she didn't hate him in the slightest. Hermione giggled.  
  
"Of course we're going to keep them. What if whoever gave them to us comes over for dinner? We'll have to show them how much we appreciated their gift..."  
  
"You are so evil," Draco said seriously, shaking his head and shoving the top back on the box. Then, he looked down. "I can't believe it..."  
  
"Can't believe what?" Hermione asked through a mouthful of cookie.  
  
"My own grandmother..." he stated softly, and Hermione choked on a laugh.  
  
"Nanny Clarabell? Really? Did she even come to the wedding?" she asked, but Draco merely shrugged. He looked as if she'd just broken the news about Santa Clause. "Oh, come now Drake, I'm sure she didn't even know..."  
  
"That's not the point," he stated in defense, and Hermione laughed.  
  
"It's not? What is it, then?"  
  
Draco remained silently staring at the flatware, eyes as glazed as the plates. Hermione lifted her eyebrow at him, and waited until he dropped his guard and hunched his shoulders.  
  
"Okay, maybe that was the point..."  
  
Hermione laughed a bit, making Draco smile.  
  
"Don't worry yourself over it. We'll get rid of that and get a new set; she won't even know the difference. That is, if she ever DOES come for dinner," she suggested, and Draco nodded, sliding the box near the growing pile opened gifts. "Go get dressed," Hermione said, assuming they were finished with gifts for the time being. "I want to leave soon." Draco looked at her strangely.  
  
"Why? Our flight isn't for another two hours... it only takes five minutes to get to the airport."  
  
"Well, yes... but we have to get through security, and I want to be on that plane a good long time before it takes off... just to be safe," Hermione explained, then pouted. "Please?" Draco rolled his eyes, but stood from the tiled floor and approached his wife. Hermione smiled as he kissed her and stole another biscuit, but stopped him before he left and took the cookie back again.  
  
"Hey," he said, furrowing his eyebrows. "Those are mine, too." Hermione nodded as she clamped his cookie between her teeth for safekeeping, then placed a king in his hand.  
  
"Yes..." she agreed. "But not the queens."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
"Are you alright?" Draco asked, eyeing Hermione oddly as she gripped the armrests and kept her eyes closed. She seemed startled as he spoke, jumping slightly in her roomy first-class seat on the plane.  
  
"Will you switch seats with me?" she asked from her position by the window, cracking an eye to view his reaction. Draco looked amused.  
  
"Why?" he prompted, but Hermione just let out a deep breath.  
  
"Please?"  
  
Draco sighed and stood up, watching with a soft smile as Hermione sighed in relief. She stood as well and slipped in front of him as to allow her husband to occupy her seat. Draco placed his hands on her upper arms as he slid toward the window; they might have been first class seats, but there was hardly enough room for two teenagers to stand single file. Being the gentleman he was, Draco waited until Hermione was seated before bending his knees and falling back into the cushy seats. Hermione sighed in relief and turned back to him, smiling.  
  
"This is much better. Thanks, Drakey," she said, wedging a hand into the crook of his arm and resting her cheek on his shoulder. Draco shook his head.  
  
"Why do you people insist on calling me that?"  
  
Hermione chuckled and tilted her head upward.  
  
"Us people?" she asked, referring to the night before, and smirking. Draco joined her.  
  
"Yes, you people. Pansy used to call me that, too," he explained, and Hermione's lips turned into a devious grin.  
  
"I know she did... because I told her to."  
  
"You what?" he asked, chuckling. "Why?"  
  
"I knew it would annoy you. Didn't want you getting any indecent ideas about her..." Hermione explained and Draco lifted an eyebrow at her.  
  
"Surely you know me better than that..."  
  
"So what if I'm innocently paranoid?" she asked artlessly, fancying him with a sultry smirk. Draco rolled his eyes and turned to the window.  
  
"Why'd you make me move, anyway?" he asked, turning back to her with a curiously quirked eyebrow. Hermione shuddered slightly.  
  
"I hate the window," she said icily, eyes trained on the glass. Draco chuckled.  
  
"And why is that? We've got a wonderful view of... well, water. You like water, don't you?" he asked mockingly, peering out the portal. Hermione shook her head.  
  
"Not when I'm thousands of feet above endless miles of it with my only protection a flimsy window... what if I fall asleep and hit my head on it? It could break and suck me right through... then where would the water get me?" she explained in a hushed voice, as if not wanting the other passengers to hear. Most were either sipping soda or sleeping, either way not paying much attention. Draco, however, laughed out loud.  
  
"What? Maybe you are a bit paranoid... honestly. I knew you had a thick head, love, but enough to break bulletproof glass? I learn something new everyday..."  
  
Hermione gave him a loathing glare and wrenched herself from his comfortable arm, crossing her own over her chest. Draco chuckled.  
  
"Hey, don't be mad at me... if you thought that true, the only thing you accomplished by moving was to put ME in danger. I love you too, Mynee, good Lord..." Draco said, completely sarcastic. Hermione took a moment to pout before she turned to him with a Charlie Brown worthy grin.  
  
"No, love. What I did was ensure the safety of the entire plane. Your ego has made your head so big you wouldn't fit through the window, but would instead plug up the hole, keeping us all safe and sound."  
  
"Ha!" Draco exclaimed. "What am I supposed to say to that?"  
  
"How am I to know?" Hermione asked. "I'm not supposed to SUPPLY you with a witty retort, Draco. What would be the point of that?" Draco stared for a moment, then turned back to his ocean view.  
  
"You're mean," he stated simply, making Hermione laugh and take his arm in her grasp again.  
  
"I'm mean? That's all you've got?" she prodded. Without warning, Draco turned to her and pecked her on the lips before turning back to the window, sour face never changing. Hermione giggled, then reached her right hand, which was near the aisle, to his left cheek, turning his face toward her. Draco released his knotted eyebrows, quite surprised at her. "If you're going to kiss me..." she said, "Kiss me like you mean it, hm?" Draco smirked slightly before capturing her lips again. Hermione smiled as they broke apart and cuddled into him again without so much as a word. Draco watched her for a moment, then turned back to the window.  
  
~*~  
  
"Hermione... Hermione, love, wake up..." Draco whispered loudly, prodding her stomach with a finger. Hermione crossed her eyebrows and placed a hand over the spot he had damaged. Draco smiled, but shoved her with his arm. She woke up immediately.  
  
"What, what? Are we there already?"  
  
"No... the flight attendant said about half an hour until we get to New York, but then we have to switch planes before we get to Vancouver," Draco explained hurriedly, eager to get to the real reason he'd woken her. Hermione wearily nodded and rested her head back on his shoulder again.  
  
"Alright," she said, "Wake me in twenty-five minutes." Draco smiled, but lifted her head up.  
  
"No, I need to ask you something," he said, somewhat seriously, and Hermione blinked her eyes back open, smiling drunkenly.  
  
"What?" she asked, watching him through parted lids. Draco sighed slightly and leaned closer.  
  
"I was thinking about that kiss earlier..." he started, and Hermione smiled in remembrance. "And, well..." Draco sighed again. "Did you mean what you said?" She laughed lightly.  
  
"About kissing me like you meant it? Don't be a dolt, Draco, I was just kidding..." she said, pecking hislips. "I know you meant it the first time." Hermione made to lay back down, but Draco pushed his shoulder upward again, jostling her from sleep. "What?"  
  
"That's not what I'm talking about," he said and Hermione smiled.  
  
"What then?"  
  
"I mean what you said yesterday... at the alter. Did you mean that?" Draco corrected her and Hermione took a moment to think, a warm smile on her face as she recalled one of the better events of the day prior. As she picked out what he was talking about, she frowned and turned to him.  
  
"When I said I loved you?" she asked, voice hushed as so not to be overheard. Draco gave a half smile, as if embarrassed. "Oh, Draco, of course I meant that..." He sighed and turned back to the window.  
  
"The same way you meant it when we were seven..." he said, more to himself, and Hermione frowned. She suddenly felt nervous, as if he were apt to get up and walk out of her life at that very moment. Subconsciously, she tightened her embrace on his arm.  
  
"Draco..." she started, unsure of exactly how to approach correcting him. It didn't feel right to just call him wrong... but there was something beyond that the bare-essential bond they'd shared as children.  
  
"Is there ANYTHING more?" he asked, and Hermione immediately nodded. She shifted in her chair as to lean her forehead against his jaw. "You're not just saying that?" Hermione shook her head furiously.  
  
"I would never..." she promised, voice deep with honesty. "I did mean it when I said that, Draco... and I meant it the way I should have, saying it at our wedding. I DO love you... I do." Draco kept his eyes on the window, but dug his jaw affectionately into her hair. Then, he sighed.  
  
"What happened to 'us people' making your life so miserable?" he asked with more sadness than spite, and Hermione lifted her head, somewhat startled.  
  
"What?" she asked, although fully aware of what he was referring to, and Draco remained silent. "Where is this all coming from?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow, and he simply shrugged. Hermione moved her hand to lace their fingers and tightened her other arm around his. "Don't think on that for a minute, Drake. I was just upset because... well, first my mother completely taking over everything... and then the hoard of people just... touching me at the reception... then Harry and Ron... plus..." She sighed. "Let's just say... you were wrong." Draco rocked their hands a bit, to get her attention and Hermione smiled softly, looking up at him.  
  
"I was wrong?" he prodded gently, and his wife shrugged a shoulder.  
  
"You said they wouldn't forget my birthday," she said softly, looking almost embarrassed. Draco frowned.  
  
"Hermione, I..." he started, but Hermione shook her head and placed a slightly prolonged kiss on his cheek.  
  
"We'll be there soon," she said, changing the subject. "I'm going to freshen up before the landing." And with that, Hermione detached herself from Draco's arm and fled to the back of the plane, disappearing into one of the little closets. Draco sighed and once again turned to the window.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
A/N: Not much to say about this one... sorry it's been so long since I've updated. I've just had so much to do, what with school and everthing... and I started a new fic, it's called Tangled Up in Blue (TUB for short) and I wrote two chapters of that... it's not fair, I know... but it started out as a FLYT chapter and it just got so long that I made it into a real fic instead of trying to finish it up and post it as one FLYT. Anyway, that's all I've really got to say. Hope the chapter was worth the wait.... 


	12. This is not what you think

This is not a chapter, it's an author's note. I realize that that is against the rules of Fanfiction and I'm sure this will be taken down very shortly, but I hope it reaches enough eyes to be understood.

I can't tell you how many times you people have chided me for my author's notes, and I don't really expect that this one will cause a change in that. I'm sure by now you've realized that I write them only when I'm upset with reviews and I have something to say in my defense. You can't really expect a defense to be chocolate coated and covered in sugar sweets.

So, yes, I know that there are grammatical errors in my short stories. There're more than likely grammatical errors in this author's note. Honestly? Nope, I don't care. People keep reviewing to bitch me out about A/N's I wrote being sore about grammar and people whining about it.

I'm not perfect. I'm not an editor, I'm not an English major—hell, when I wrote most of the stuff on this website I wasn't even a high-schooler. That's the major qualm I have here, actually.

I WROTE THESE THINGS YEARS AGO.

I don't mind people reviewing to say, "Oh yeah I liked this and I wish you'd update again"(even though I don't plan to) or "I actually thought this sucked for legitimate reasons that I will outline as follows."

I just hate it when people review only to tell me that I was immature and out of line when yelling at people in my author's notes. I was like, 12. 12 year olds tend to be kind of immature and out of line a lot of the time. Don't tell them about it seven years later and expect them to have a self-revelation and repent for all their sins.

Since I'm here I might as well take the time to say a few more things,

I really do appreciate you guys still reading my stories and enjoying them even though they're getting really dusty.

I'm not going to update again, no matter how many times I'm asked and how enthusiastically those requests are outlined.

I was there, too, when I thought Fanfiction was the greatest thing in the world and that I would never tire of it—but I did. I remember one of my best friends-through-Fanfiction giving up on her stories when I was in my prime and thinking to myself, how could you do that? How could you do that to yourself, to your fans? To your unfinished work?

I will never do that. I will write Fanfiction until I am dead.

You will find soon in your lives that things you think are true when you're 14 have a tendency to not be exactly as you expected them to be.

I outgrew Fanfiction. There are things in my life that are more important now.

I'm deep and tormented in unrequited love with my best friend.

I have $20,000 in college loans.

I'm designing websites under the guidance of real designers and for real organizations.

I'm going to Otakon.  the best thing to ever happen to me

There's just no room in my life for the 19 hours of Fanfiction I used to write and read everyday. I'm sorry, guys.

But, this is Priah—Signing out.


End file.
